Consequences of Foolish Wand Waving
by Sheri Contrary
Summary: Could there be more to Severus Snape than just an abusive beginning, a tortured experience at Hogwarts where he lost a secret love, and a very nasty end? Of course there was! This is about the things that went on between the lines, and what came of it. IN PROGRESS - note though that I haven't updated in two years. Sorry!
1. Septima Sylvanus Vector

**Author's Note**

Okay...**first**...please note that, though this fic starts out with two **characters** that are actually _in_ the books/movies (Severus Snape and Septima Vector), it is quickly going to be moving on to people I've made up. I put S.S. as who it is about, because I didn't know who else _to_ put. It _is_, after all, about his progeny. So sorry though, to disappoint those who don't like reading about made up characters and...you should stop reading now if you think you can't handle it. *sigh*

So...some of the characters you'll see will be familiar. Of course they will...this is FAN FICTION! First chapter has all of two people in it—Severus Snape, who we all know and love (ahem), and Septima Vector, another professor at Hogwarts...I didn't make her up...she's the Arithmancy professor and you can find her at the head table in the first movie. =) ***** Note**: I was going to Mary Sue this chapter and make the character ME: a RAVENCLAW with long, blonde hair and blue eyes, by the name Septima Vector, teaching Arithmancy...but then I did some research on the name (which appears in the Lexicon) and figured out that she was actually in the movie and that she's my complete opposite (visually), so...I guess MY affair with Severus will have to wait. *sigh* I did, however, make up the name in parenthesis (Sylvanus).

**Second**...this _really _should **NOT** have an **M rating**, though I did rate it thus to cover my arse...just in case (plus, there are a few suggestive scenes in the beginning). Sorry if you wanted dirty, but it's just not going to be...I don't think.

And...**third**...since Harry Potter and the **Deathly Hallows** (part one) was released (November 18...I've gone to see it TWICE!), my head has been at Hogwarts and such...but in a different way. I'm very much in love with Alan Rickman/Severus Snape and hate, hate, HATE that Rowling killed him off, but...well, she's the author, right...so what can we do? Well, if you've read any of my writing, I don't really like to change things (too much...muahahahah). I mean, I take other authors' characters and spin my own tale, but I try very hard to keep things consistent...so this means my beloved Severus still has to die. *sniff* However, since I _love_ the character of Severus Snape so much, I wanted there to be more to him than just an abusive beginning (his parents), a lost love (Lily Evans)—obsessed though it may have been—a tortured experience at Hogwarts (thanks to James Potter), and a nasty (and unnecessary) end (thanks a lot Old Moldy Voldy!)...so...well...he's gonna leave something behind...just a FEW somethings, actually! *grin*

**POV** - You will never, never, NEVER see "POV" at the top of one of my posts...that's yet another pet peeve of mine. If you can't tell whose POV it is, then I'm sorry (and **shame on me**)...I do my best to make it clear, but I tend to head-hop, which is just wrong, wrong, wrong (according to the publishers for first time publishees...is that a word?)...but I've been told I do it "gracefully" (thanks Matera the Mad…who probably wouldn't be caught dead in here...but OMG, woman, you're getting a cameo in here...chapter 9), so...cool! You'll have to be the judge of that on your own. And if you _still_ can't tell whose mind I'm in, then...too bad! :p

And **finally**...I do apologize for my American vernacular...as much as I try, I just can't seem to write in British English. Please note that I am quite aware that this story takes place in Great Britain (in London where King's Cross Station is and up north to Scotland where Hogwarts is supposed to be) and that, because I've never been there, it's really hard to duplicate the tone and/or atmosphere. I've never been very good at accents and cannot, for the life of me, reproduce a British one...let alone write one. *sigh* My main goal, for the beginning of this anyway, is for my readers to feel and hear, at least a little bit of the Severus Snape we think we know so much about. =)

So...if you find this fan fiction enjoyable...then read on. If not, then MOVE ON!

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**Word Count:** 1,386

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**Septima (Sylvanus) Vector** (July 1996)

"We have to stop meeting like this, Severus," said a woman as she stood up and flipped a burgundy wrapper over her naked body, then cinched it at the waist before turning her back on the man. "We're not supposed to be fraternizing. If Dumbledore only knew," she said with a shake of her head as she made tsking sounds, then smiled back over her shoulder at the man. "Fancy a brandy?"

Still lying in the woman's bed, only partially covered—his pale chest exposed and a leg thrown out, both almost glowing in the candle-lit room—Severus opened just one eye and said, "I wouldn't be surprised if he _did_ know. Not much gets by Albus Dumbledore. I really should leave."

Rolling her eyes—because she knew he wasn't going anywhere—the woman crossed the room, pulled out a decanter of brandy and a couple of snifters, poured them each a healthy amount, then started back toward the man. "Yes, I see that you're doing that."

His other eye opening, his black iris' trained on the woman as she approached, he frowned. "This is grounds for being sacked," he said dryly as he accepted the glass of amber liquid.

"I am well aware of that, Severus," she said with a grim smile. "But, we are between terms and...what they don't know won't hurt them." She shrugged—then frowned. "Though...I have to agree that Albus _might_ know."

"_Like_ I said."

Frowning for only a moment longer, the woman waved a hand, as if to dispel the unpleasant thought, then said, "Let's try not worry about such nonsense and enjoy ourselves. Life is too short to deny ourselves these little pleasures."

Taking a quick sip—and then a large gulp—Severus clunked his glass onto the bedside table, then reached up, grabbed the woman's arm, and pulled her onto his lap. "I could not have said it better myself," Severus growled, then yanked her face down so that he could take her mouth in a bruising kiss.

Moaning, the woman turned in his lap—so that she was straddling him—then raked her nails across his back and nipped at his mouth. This caused him to pull back slightly, his black eyes sparking with lust.

"You, Septima Vector, are a very naughty girl," he growled—then flipped her to the mattress beside him.

"_Girl_?" she said with a laugh. "I didn't know you knew such sweet words, Severus."

Smirking, Severus moved over her. Then, holding her wrists tightly over her head, he then divested her of her wrapper and devoured her—again.

**XxXxXxX**

A few hours later, when they were finally sated, Severus dragged himself from Septima's bed and went to where he'd thrown his clothing. Facing away from her, he gave his black trousers an almost violent shake, then quickly dressed while she lay in the bed watching him. After tossing his cloak about his shoulders, he said, "We have to stop this! Term starts soon and..." He let his words trail off as he looked at her.

Septima nodded. "You're right, of course," she said with a sigh as she reached for her brandy, and then took a sip. Then, putting her glass down beside his, she sat up straighter. Holding her gold-colored sheets up over her breasts she smiled at the man. "We do so _need_ to keep up appearances," she said—almost sarcastically.

"We did agree that this was to be an affair, right? A _temporary_ one." Worried that he'd made yet another mistake, he wanted clarification. With the things that were coming, and they _were_ coming, he didn't have time for any complications—even enjoyable ones like Septima Vector. And he really didn't want to get her involved in anything...dark. Though she'd obviously seen his Dark Mark—since they'd spent so much time together naked—she'd had the presence of mind to not mention it, though she had run her fingers over it absently on more than one occasion. But now he wondered. Had he made a mistake? She was a good woman, but...would she makes demands on him that he couldn't give in to? "Septima?"

At this, the woman laughed. "Oh, get _over_ yourself, Severus," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then, throwing back the sheet and getting up, she picked up their glasses and said, "Did you think I was hoping for more?" When he didn't respond, she continued. "I'm not that simpering Salvatore girl you've been carrying on with. I was once a married woman."

"Yes, I do recall Felix," he said, ignoring her comment about Raveena Salvatore, who was hardly 'a girl'—she was thirty-one. "Met with an unfortunate accident, didn't he?"

Septima shrugged. "That was ages ago, Severus. I'm long since over my dead husband's botched spells. I'm just glad he didn't take anyone else out when his spell backfired. But, what are you going to do about that girl?" she pushed.

Narrowing his eyes at her—at her cavalier attitude—the dark-eyed man blinked. He hadn't realized anyone had noticed Raveena's obsession with him, though it had been going on for years—her obsession—and he wondered what else Septima knew. He was just about to ask when she spoke again.

"Has it ever crossed your mind, Severus, that a woman could want...a distraction from it all?" she went on. "Life is so...ugly, these days."

"Has it ever crossed _your_ mind that I don't want to do this anymore?"

Septima smiled, then shook her head. "Not for a minute, dear Severus. You see, I know you don't get around much," she said over her shoulder as she set the empty glasses on her dressing table, "because of your...brooding and all, but...I was under the impression that we were...enjoying ourselves."

Severus frowned at this. "Yes, we are, but...you are _not_ my first female," he said stiffly, as if suddenly realizing she might be insulting him and his prowess.

Septima chuckled. "Oh, of _that_ I am sure. You're far too wise in the ways of a woman's body for me to have been your first...or second, I'd wager," she said with a teasing smile. "No, no...no insult toward your ahh...expertise intended. I'm just saying that...well, I've known you for years, Severus. I may be a few years older than you, but we _were_ hired the same year. We've taught side by side...well, so to speak...in the same castle anyway. You're the Potions Master, hiding in your dark and dreary dungeon." She smiled. "And I teach Arithmancy up on the seventh floor. We're like a family."

Severus frowned. He didn't have any real _family_ to speak of—and frankly, didn't want any—but it was true that the teaching staff at Hogwarts was the closest thing he'd probably ever get, whether he wanted it or not. "So, what exactly are you saying, Septima?" he asked with confusion.

She shrugged at this. "Can't we just enjoy the moment...then move on when this thing plays itself out?"

"You want to continue this..._affair_...for the summer, then go back to Hogwarts and forget it all happened?"

Septima laughed. "Oh. I very much doubt I'll forget all of this, Severus, but...yes."

Narrowing his eyes, Severus thought for a moment, then nodded. Though he'd rather enjoyed the time he'd spent with Septima Vector—in her bed—he knew that, with all that was to come, it would be better for the both of them if they severed ties come term.

**XxXxXxX**

Just a week before term was to begin, several letters had arrived by owl just prior to his morning meal, but, stuffing them into his cloak, Severus saved them for later. He'd since received another:

Dear Severus,

Due to some personal issues, I've decided to resign  
my post at Hogwarts. Please understand that  
this has nothing to do with you - or our tryst. If  
you should ever need me, I'll be only an owl away.

Regards,  
Septima Vector

A frown creasing his forehead, Severus stared at the signature for several minutes, then reread the letter a few times. He'd not expected this, and wondered what 'personal issues' would cause the woman to resign from Hogwarts. But then, thinking it better for the both of them, he folded up the letter and stuffed it into a potions book.


	2. Holly Elspeth Granger

**Author's Note**

In **Chapter Two** of, "Consequences of Foolish Wand Waving," we meet Holly, a Muggle woman who just so happens to be the older cousin of the lovely Hermione Granger. She also _just happens_ to happen on the Leaky Cauldron (which muggles aren't supposed to see)—and Severus Snape. We also run into a nasty Death Eater—but only briefly! =)

And...I do apologize for any timeline inaccuracies...I've tried to slip these things into the real HP timeline from the Lexicon. If anyone sees anything that's blatantly WRONG, please, please, PLEASE let me know! Thanks!

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**Word Count:** 2,996

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**Holly Elspeth Granger** (October 1996)

He'd run into the woman on a few occasions. The first time was just outside the Leaky Cauldron. He'd been inside, after a quick trip to Diagon Alley, but was leaving—and she was standing outside, in near darkness, staring up at the proprietor's strangely otherworldly sign, looking cold and afraid.

His mind had been on other things—other affairs, actually—so he'd opened the door absently. But seeing the woman, her hair dark, but showing hints of red as the inside lamp light shown upon her, he stopped and held the door open for her, making a gesture that invited her to come into the warm pub.

But startled by his sudden appearance, the woman jumped back several steps and, losing her footing, fell to the ground with a thump and a sharp intake of breath. For a moment Severus just stared at her—he was not in the habit of assisting stray women—but then he stepped outside to help her to her feet.

It was then that he caught her eyes. And for a split he thought he was looking at a ghost. Her eyes, a brilliant green—but somewhat blue too—looked nearly identical to the only woman he had ever loved. A woman who'd not returned his love. A woman who'd married a man he loathed, and then got herself killed to save their child.

He extended a hand, expecting it to be refused—that was the reaction he received from women more often than not—but was pleasantly surprised when she placed her cold hand in his warm one. Grasping it gently, and taking her elbow, Severus pulled her to her feet, then steadied her when she lost her footing yet again, grabbing onto him fiercely.

"I am so sorry," she said, obviously embarrassed. "I'm not usually such a clod.

His lips quirking, despite himself, Severus shrugged. "Were you going inside?" he asked.

Glancing up at the sign again, she frowned. "I'm afraid I'm lost. I've never been in this part of London, and..." She stopped, uncertain about continuing when she didn't know the man.

"And?" he prompted.

"Someone was following me," she admitted reluctantly.

Glancing one way, and then the other, Severus frowned. "There is _no one_ following you now." But when that didn't seem to make the woman feel any better he sighed. "I was just leaving, but I can see you inside, if you'd like," he offered, not quite sure why he was offering this stranger his precious time. This was supposed to be a _quick visit_ to Diagon Alley, and now he was helping someone he didn't even know.

Worrying her lip between her teeth and scrunching her brows together, the woman appeared to think it over. "I don't know. I don't...know you."

Slowly, Severus extended his hand and gave her his first name, then waited—and smiling, the woman took his hand and said, "My name's Holly."

**XxXxXxX**

It was several weeks later before Severus _ran into her_ again. They'd agreed to meet a second time—same time, same place—but after waiting alone for over an hour in a shadowed corner of the Leaky Cauldron, he had to admit that she wasn't coming.

Frustrated, and furious with himself for trusting someone, Severus paid for his Firewhiskey, then stormed outside—only to walk directly into someone he _really_ didn't want to see.

"Dolohov."

"Snape."

"What are you _doing_ here?"

"Hmm. I might ask you the same thing," said the Death Eater, an evil smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "But I will answer you. I was following a muggle by the name of Granger."

Frowning, Severus shook his head. "That's impossible! Miss Granger would be at Hogwarts at the moment, not outside the Leaky Cauldron. Students aren't allowed to leave the castle in the middle of the week."

"I was told she was here," Dolohov said, then went on evilly. "And I want to finish what I started in the Department of Mysteries."

Severus snorted at this. "Like I said, _the girl_ is at the castle. Go back to where you came from, before someone sees you. You _are_ a fugitive, if you recall."

Dolohov's eyes narrowed angrily and he gnashed his teeth. "Some of us went to Azkaban for the Dark Lord, while _others_ made friends with the enemy. How is it that you are held in such high regard, Snape, when you are such a coward?"

For a moment, Severus just stared, his dark hair and eyes making his pale skin look even more so. Then he spoke. "I have followed the Dark Lord's orders, Dolohov...that is all you need know. I will take care of the Granger girl. You should disappear before you are seen. And _don't_...call me a coward!"

Dolohov waited a second—then he disapparated without even checking to see if the coast was clear.

**XxXxXxX**

Severus stood there for several seconds, to make sure the Death Eater was really gone, then he stepped into the darkened alley and hissed, "Might as well come out, _Granger_, I know you're there. And bring Potter and Weasley with you. Those two _idiots_ are never far behind."

Silence.

"Your punishment and loss of points to Gryffindor House becomes greater with each passing moment," he threatened.

When still no one showed themselves, Severus sighed. "Fine then. _Accio Granger_!"

And suddenly someone was standing on the stone walk in front of him—but it wasn't _Hermione_ Granger. It was the woman he'd expected to meet for a drink, but who hadn't shown up. "_Holly_," he whispered in shock. "Your name's Holly _Granger_?"

Her bluish-green eyes wide with surprise, she looked around. "I-I was...I was trying to come...to the Leaky Cauldron...to...to...meet you, S-Severus, but... How did I get here? I was..._there_," she said, pointing back down the alley. "And now I'm _here_. What's _happening_, Severus?" she moaned, her hand coming up to cover her mouth—then she fainted straight away.

Without a second to think about it, Severus scooped Holly up—so that she wouldn't injure herself falling to the ground—Muggles were significantly more breakable than witches and wizards—but then he just stood there holding her, her right cheek resting against his left shoulder. He couldn't carry her back to her home, because...well, he didn't know where she lived. And he couldn't take her back to the castle, because that wasn't allowed...though he wondered if they'd make an exception because of her name. And he _shouldn't_ bring her into the Leaky Cauldron the way she was—people would talk and he didn't need that. So he waited—standing there, around the corner from the Leaky Cauldron, holding a Muggle woman cradled in his arms.

But when she was still unconscious after ten minutes—and his arms exhausted—he decided to Apparate home, taking her with him.

In his main living space—his study—he set her down in his favorite chair, then went to get her a piece of chocolate. When he came back she was stirring, so quickly, he started a fire.

"_Incendio_," he said with a flick of his wand at the fireplace.

And then, when he looked again at the woman, she finally had her eyes opened and focused on him—and she looked terrified.

"W-who...are you?" she asked.

Severus frowned. "I have already given you my name," he said, then offered her a piece of chocolate. "Here, this should help."

Staring at the candy in the man's hand, the woman frowned, then jumped from the chair and back away. "Why would I want _chocolate_? Where the _bloody hell_ am I?" she cursed. "And...and how did you make that fire?"

"I've brought you to my house...to keep you safe...from the man who was following you."

"_Safe_!" she shrieked. "I don't even _know_ you, Severus. Pfft! If that's even your name!"

"I assure you, my name _is_ Severus Snape," he said dryly.

"Oh! Well, _that's_ reassuring!" she snapped. "What kind of name is Severus anyway?"

"Holly, please. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About what you saw."

The woman frowned. "Someone was following me and I was hiding, _that's_ what I saw. Then the next thing I know, I'm standing in front of _you_! And now we're _here_!" she gestured madly about. "Like magic!"

"Is your name Holly _Granger_?" he asked.

Frowning at his shift in questioning, she gave him one clipped nod.

"Do you know someone by the name of...Hermione?"

Slowly, she nodded again. "I have...a cousin named Hermione. My parents told me she goes to some private school around here, but...they didn't know its name," she explained. "I think it's in Scotland, actually. _Wait_! You know Hermione?"

Pleased that he'd at least distracted her from his use of magic in front of her—on her, actually—a Muggle, Severus nodded. "I do. She is...a student of mine. Has been for five years."

The woman just stared.

"Holly, are you all right?"

"Umm. I think so," she said, then scratched her head. "You're a teacher at a private school?"

"Yes."

"A school that teaches..._what_, exactly?"

Severus didn't answer.

"Reading, writing, arithmetic?" she persisted.

"Among other subjects," he said with a nod.

"Like?"

"History," he blurted. Then, trying hard to remember what subject potions would fall under in the Muggle world, he said, "Science?" It came out sounding more like a question, but she didn't seem to catch it.

"Uh-ha," she said, her hands on her hips.

"You don't believe me?" he asked, feeling very much like a boy again.

She frowned. "I want to, Severus, but...no." She shook her head. "How did you make me appear in front of you?"

"You think _I_ did that?"

"How do you expect me to trust you when you won't explain to me what I saw? I _saw_ you point something at that fireplace and, _poof_, there's a fire! I _heard_ you say some strange word and my name and, _poof_, I was standing in front of you. And, I wasn't awake, but...I _know_ not enough time has lapsed for us to have come from that creepy Leaky Cauldron to your house in...wherever we are. I want to know what's going on."

Frowning, Severus turned away from her, then quickly back again. "I have to be at the school come the morning, I don't have time for this."

"Why can't you just _abracadabra_ yourself back there?" she said.

Severus stared at her. "Abracadabra?" he questioned, thinking her silly spell sounded very much like the Unforgivable killing curse.

"Yeah, you know, 'Abracadabra, take me to work!' or something like that," she said flippantly.

Severus smiled. He couldn't help himself. "That spell work for you?" he asked.

Holly rolled her eyes. "Well, of course not, but..._yours_ do apparently."

"What makes you think so?"

"I'm not blind...or stupid, Severus."

"No, I don't suppose that you are. Your cousin is quite possibly the brightest wi-woman...in her class," Severus said, angry that he'd nearly slipped and said 'witch' instead of 'woman.'

"So. Are you going to come clean?"

Severus just stared again.

Folding her arms over her chest, Holly sighed. "Fine then! Don't answer me. I'll just call my cousin tomorrow and interrogate _her_ until she tells me who and what you are."

Severus smirked. "I wish you the best of luck with that," he said, his voice flat and not very encouraging, knowing full well that contacting the little Granger witch at Hogwarts would be quite impossible for a Muggle. "I will tell her to...expect your call."

"No you won't!" Holly snapped, her blue-green eyes flashing.

Sighing, Severus said, "No, you're right, I won't. Now, let's get you home, so I can return to the castle."

Holly blinked. "The _castle_? The school you teach in is in a castle?"

Severus frowned, frustrated that he couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut. "Yes."

"Where is it? Can I see it?"

"No," he ground out.

"Will you take me there?"

Severus gave one quick shake of his head. "No. Only students are allowed."

Holly frowned at this. "No guests allowed?"

"No."

"_Ever_?"

Severus shook his head again.

"Hmm. Well, I'm almost finished with university," she went on, "could I get an application to teach there?"

Severus blinked at this. "Applications are not..._offered_. You are either invited or not," he said, wondering why he was offering this Muggle so much information. "You really _are_ a Granger, aren't you?" he asked, his black eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Holly frowned. "Well yes, I am...but what do you mean?"

"You're insufferably pushy...just like your cousin, aren't you?"

Holly shrugged. She hardly knew her cousin because she'd not spent much time in London—her own parents traveled a lot and always brought her with them. Hermione, on the other hand, had spent her entire life here.

Severus ground his teeth. "All right. Fine," he said, turning away from the woman. "I'll just have to modify your memory later."

"Modify my memory?"

"Yes. Come now. I don't have time for this. Where do you live? I'll take you there."

"As in, abracadabra?" she asked with an excited grin.

"_Something_ like that, but...no. We will Apparate."

Holly's eyes widened. "From _here_ to my house?"

He nodded.

She laughed, then clapped her hands like a child.

He frowned. "You accuse me of wizardry, then scoff at what I say I'm going to do?"

She giggled. "Uh-ha."

"Now you don't believe me?" He was shocked that she was incredulous.

"Sorry," she said with a shrug.

Frowning, Severus said, "What is your address? I will take you there."

For a moment, the woman looked as if she were contemplating it—giving a man your home address could be dangerous—but it wasn't like she believed him. Or did she? Finally shrugging, she gave him her address, then stepped up close to him when he gestured her forward.

Wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close—closer than was necessary and he knew it—Severus immediately took her home.

"Happy now?" he asked when her shining eyes stared up at him in surprise. "I told you, but you did not believe me."

"But...I _did_ believe you. That's the problem." Holly swallowed hard. "My cousin Hermione...she's a wizard too?"

Severus shrugged. "A witch," he corrected, then tried to back away from her. "I really need to return to the castle."

She nodded.

"You will have to release my robes before I can go," he said.

And then, as if for the first time realizing his garment was not normal clothing, she ran her hands down the front of his...robes. "You sure wear a lot of black."

Severus gave a slight nod, but didn't say anything.

"Humph! Suits you, I guess," she said.

"Miss Granger," he said stiffly as he eyed her hands clutching the front of his robes, "I really must go."

Frowning, Holly looked up at the man. "When will I see you again, Severus?" she asked, still not letting go of him—she was afraid he'd just disappear.

"I do not think it would be wise for us to meet again. I am a wizard. And you are a Muggle."

"A _Muggle_?"

He nodded. "People with no magic capabilities."

"But I don't care," she said, "I want to see you again."

Severus frowned again, wondering why it was so hard to resist this woman. She was a Muggle—and a Granger. And much too youthful. "How old are you, Holly Granger?" he asked bluntly.

"Almost twenty-two."

"Too young," he whispered.

"How old are you?" she asked curiously.

"Nearly thirty-seven...too old," he said, then reached up and pushed a reddish-brown curl from her face so that he could see her eyes better.

"But I don't care, Severus," she nearly whined—which he usually hated, but was finding endearing in this green-eyed beauty.

"Your cousin hates me," he blurted, trying to deter her.

"Pfft! Hermione doesn't hate anyone," she countered. "And besides, she's just a child. I'm a grown woman. Stay the night, Severus."

His eyes widened. "You want me to _stay_ here...with you?"

Holly nodded. "And if you still think our ages differ too much come morning, I will not beg you to stay. Please stay with me."

"But we hardly know each other, Miss Granger," he said as he caressed her cheek once again.

"I don't care," she said with a shake of her head. "I have this horrible feeling that, if you leave me here alone tonight, I'll never see you again. And...stop calling me Miss Granger!"

Frowning, Severus pulled her to his chest. He didn't know what it meant, but worried that something would happen to her if he left her. "I will stay," he acquiesced. "If that's what you really want, Holly Granger."

**XxXxXxX**

Come morning—hours before dawn actually—Severus lay with the much younger woman curled up in the crook of his arm. He'd never had a more satisfying night in his life and definitely didn't want to leave her now—but he had to.

Slowly, so as not to wake her, he slipped out from under the sleeping woman and dressed, then scribbled her a note.

"You mean you're not going to 'modify my memory'?"

Smiling, Severus turned around. "Against my better judgment, no. Would you like me to?" he asked.

"Not on your life, mister!" she said. Then jumping up, she crawled—naked—across her bed and sat on her feet at the foot. "When can I see you again?"

Severus thought for several seconds, then shrugged. "I teach on weekdays, but I can't get away every weekend. I'll have to let you know. I'll send you an owl."

She smiled. "An _owl_?"

He shrugged. "That's the way we send messages in the wizarding world."

"Cool!"

Chuckling, Severus grabbed her face and kissed her, then pushed her back into the bed. "Now, go back to sleep. There are still a few hours before dawn and I want you to get some sleep," he said. Then he kissed her again and Disapparated.

* * *

**Post Script**

Please note that Holly Granger is of my own creation...she did NOT exist in J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_...and no, my Holly is not related to Lily Evans, she just sort of resembles her (and her cousin, Hermione...Holy's cousin, not Lily's). =)

**ETA** (2/28/2011)**:** Okay...so...if anyone is interested, I have created quite an intricate "Family Tree" for my characters. I started with the family tree of the "Most Ancient House of Black" and morphed it into something else...which I can make available upon request (PM me your email addie and I'll send it to you...subject: CoFWW – family tree). Please note though that the family tree is constantly changing, as I add/change information. For the most part, I've tried to keep the Black portion as JKR originally made it out to be, but...then I've added TONS of people. They're always saying that all the pure-blood families are related and...so they are. LOL.


	3. Raveena Sidonia Salvatore

**Author's Note**

**Chapter ****Three**...yet _another_ woman in Sev's life...though she actually came first! In this chapter Severus gets the surprise of his life...and he's _not_ too nice about it!

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**Word Count: **1,738

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**Raveena Sidonia Salvatore** (December 1996)

Sitting at his desk, Severus glanced up when a tapping on the door drew his attention. Without lowering _The Daily Prophet_, he drawled an, "_Enter_."

"S-so sorry to disturb, but..."

"But what, Wormtail?" Severus sneered with obvious irritation as he snapped the top half of the paper down so that he could see the beady-eyed little man over it.

Wormtail winced. "An owl has arrived."

Leaning forward and placing the paper on his desk, Severus held out a hand and growled, "Well then, let's have it!"

Cringing, because Severus always looked as if he was ready to throw something, Wormtail crept, almost hunchbacked, into the room and lay a single sealed envelope in Severus' waiting hand, then turned to leave.

"And fetch me a drink, would you?" Severus snapped, his eyes on the seal. "Some of that elf-made wine."

At the door, the little man turned back and said, "I'm not your servant!" in a squeaky voice.

Looking up from the envelope, Severus frowned. "Oh?"

Wormtail shook his head.

"What are you then?" Severus snapped. "Are you just here to make a nuisance of yourself?"

Wormtail frowned.

"Have we not gone over this?" growled Severus. "The Dark Lord has put you here to assist me..._yes_?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then _assist_ me!" Severus ground out through clenched teeth as he stared at the pinched-face man. Then, when the man looked as if he planned to argue further, Severus pulled out his want. "Run along..._Wormtail_," he growled, then, with a flick of his wrist, sent the man out and closed the door in his face.

For a moment, Severus stared at the closed door—then he broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out a short note written on yellowing parchment.

My Dearest Severus,

It seems that you're not going to respond to my many

letters - I've sent seven - so, despite your request that I don't

visit, I will be coming to you - unless you come to me.

Please come. I beg you. I have something very important to tell you.

Always Yours,

Raveena

**XxXxXxX**

"Severus! You came!" a woman with stringy blonde hair said excitedly as soon as she'd opened the creaking front door of the tiny place she was staying. Then, stepping back into near darkness, she said, "Do come in."

Glancing over his shoulder, like he didn't want anyone to see him enter, Severus Snape narrowed his eyes at the woman just five years his junior. He'd known her most of her life—she was the younger sister of a boy he'd once called friend, but who'd died tragically when they were just children—not that he cared one wit about those kinds of connections. Then frowning, he stepped over the threshold.

"I love what you've done with the place," he said dryly, his black eyes slowly roving over the small fire-lit living space. He'd been there on exactly two other occasions and it looked nearly the same on this day as it had then—dirty and unkempt, and perhaps more cluttered. And it was even more dark and dreary than his own home on Spinner's End, which, though one might think he'd appreciate it, he rather didn't—it was like she was _trying_ too hard to be like him, and he really didn't want to have anything to do with her.

Smiling, the woman quickly pulled off her long green house cloak—why she wore any kind of witch's cloak was anyone's guess, she was a Squib and semi-disinherited because of it—and tossed it onto her favorite chair, then looked up at the man.

"Oh Sev, I'm so glad you came," she cooed as she reached out and grabbed the front of his long black wizard's robes.

Almost shuddering, Severus disentangled himself from her clutching hands and took a step backward. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

The woman shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, a few _hundred_ times," she said, advancing on him with an evil grin.

Sidestepping the woman, Severus walked into her living room, then whipped around to face her. "What do you want, Raveena?" he growled. "I don't have time for this!"

So much was happening. It was winter break and he, along with most everyone else at Hogwarts, was on holiday—though he had absolutely nothing Christmassy planned. Instead, he'd been hiding out, waiting for instructions; they came from so many places these days. But he didn't particularly want to be _here_, in Reveena Salvatore's hovel. The only reason he'd actually come this day was because he'd needed a break from Wormtail—the snuffling little rat-faced man who'd been living in his home since...well...for _much_ too long now, as far as he was concerned—and because he's received yet another owl from the woman requesting that he visit.

Her lips thinning, then quirking up, Raveena clasped her hands and looked up at him adoringly. "I have something to tell you, Sev-erus."

"Something you couldn't have told me about _by owl_?"

Raveena shook her head emphatically. "Oh no. It's something I have to _show_ you. Come!" she said as she crooked her finger. Then, turning, she left the room.

Staring after her for a second, Severus slowly moved toward the narrow staircase in the entryway and watched the woman disappear on the upper landing. Then, with a growl, he flew up behind her, taking the steps two at a time.

At the top of the staircase he stopped and sniffled. A strange scent hit him. Not one he was used to. And then he heard a quiet mewing sound. Looking down, he expected to find a cat—but there was no cat in sight. Moving slowly down the hallway, he came to a half-opened door. Pushing it all the way opened, he saw Raveena standing there, smiling proudly.

"What is this all about?" he asked plainly. "I told you, I don't have time for—"

Putting a finger to her lips, Raveena said, "Shhh." Then she pointed down at something he couldn't see. "Come," she whispered, waving him forward.

Frowning, Severus came fully into the room and moved to her side. Then he looked down to see a small green-wrapped bundle—it was a baby.

"Our son, Severus," she said with a satisfied grin up at him. "Isn't he beautiful."

Staring at the tiny creature for several moments, any color that he had in his already pallid skin draining straight away, Severus' brows bunched, then he backed away. "That...that _child_ cannot be mine."

Raveena blinked with surprise. She obviously hadn't expected this reaction. In fact, she'd very much hoped he'd be overjoyed that she'd presented him with a son, and that he'd finally marry her. After all, she'd been waiting for him to propose for years. "I named him Evanius Severus Salvatore-Snape...but I can change it to just Snape, if you wish it. Just tell me to and I will."

"I do _not_ wish it! And I do not wish to be its father!"

Raveena frowned at this. "It's a little too late for that, Sev. Evanius needs his father and I assure you, he most definitely _is_ yours."

"NO!" he growled loudly, which caused the baby to stir.

Started, the child opened its eyes and whimpered, then let out a squall. Quickly, it was scooped up by its mother. "See, darling. He looks just like you."

Severus looked from the mother of the child, disbelieving of her claim, to the child himself. It wasn't very big yet—perhaps a few months—but even he had to admit the child was going to have his nearly black hair—and it's eyes were pitch as well. As much as he'd never wanted this, he couldn't help but see the resemblance.

"I told you, Raveena," he snarled, "that I don't have time for you. For _this_," he gestured at her and the baby. "Did you not hear me?"

"Yes, but—"

"Things are coming, Raveena. _Horrible_ things," he growled. "I can't be bother with this."

Cuddling her now quiet child to her breast, Raveena frowned. "I-I don't understand."

Severus shook his head. "I was very clear when we . . . I told you . . . I couldn't be...involved." He'd actually been telling her that for years, but she'd never been deterred by his put offs. In fact, she'd come on stronger every time he'd seen her. Every time he rebuffed her advances, she seemed to think her chances were better.

"But he's...yours, Severus," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "Your _son_."

"NO! He is _your_ son, Raveena!" the man snapped.

Setting the baby back in his crib, Raveena looked up at the man, then put her hands on her hips and glared at him angrily. "I guess I was wrong to think that cold heart of yours would melt when you saw Evanius," she said with a shake of her head. "But you don't even have a heart, do you?"

Severus didn't answer. He couldn't afford to have a hearth in these dark times.

"I named him after that _bloody_ muggle you loved so much and _still_ you won't have me!" she yelled, startling the baby again. Her eyes filling with tears of anger and hurt, she reached out and put a hand on the child's back to calm him, then blinked, causing her tears to fall.

"Do _not_ mention Lily Evans in my presence!" he snarled furiously.

"But...I _love_ you, Severus," Raveena choked through her tears. "I want to be your wife. I'll make you happy. I _swear_ it. Please, won't you marry me so we can raise our son together?"

Severus blanched at this. "_Marry you_!" he roared. "Merlin's _beard_, woman! It was one drunken encounter nearly a year ago! And I told you afterward there'd be no second time. You are _a fool_ if you think you'll ensnare me so easily. I won't have it! You _won't_ trap me!"

But Sev—"

"Don't. Call. Me. _THAT_!" he growled.

Frowning, Raveena's eyes flashed with fury. "I've a mind to make Salvatore our son's surname," she threatened.

For a moment, Severus stared at her—and then he nodded. "That would probably be best...for his safety and your own."

At this she seethed. _How _dare_ he deny her_! "I didn't really name him after your stupid _Muggle_ bint!" she screamed furiously, her pale face bright red now. "My _grandmother's_ middle name was Evanda. Evanius is named after _her_!"

For a moment Severus just stared—and then, before she could say anything further, he nodded. "Even better!" Then, turning his back on the brainless woman, Severus flapped his long black cloak and flew from the room, and her house—and his son's life!


	4. Room Number Thirteen

**Author's Note**

Okay people...it was pointed out to me that things jumped too far forward and that something seemed to be missing...so I've **deleted** the Chapter 4 that I posted earlier today (12/16/2010) and I'm adding this short connector chapter—and then I'll go REPOST what I deleted, which will then be Chapter 5. Make sense? I sure as F hope so! So...this is the new and improved (I hope) **Chapter Four**. =)

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**Word Count: **1,579

* * *

**Room Number Thirteen** (January 1997)

Glancing up at a snarling dark sky, Holly pushed against the whipping wind, pulling her long wool coat tight as she went, then grabbed the hood as it started to fall from her head, and slipped not so quietly into the Leaky Cauldron—slamming the door against the wind. After straightening herself slightly, she turned. She didn't have to wait for her eyes to adjust to the room's low lighting, because it had been nearly as dark outside, so she looked around and smiled at the shabbiness of the place—it was quite welcoming, in a strange, magical way that she didn't think she'd be able to explain even if her life depended on it.

Inside, the establishment was fairly busy, full of odd-looking witch and wizard folk who, strangely enough, didn't seem to take more than a passing notice of her entrance—though she must look as out of place to them as they would in her favorite corner pub. There was a bar along one wall, a few tables almost haphazardly strewn about the room, and a couple of high-backed chairs in front of a blazing fire—all of which were full on this blustery day.

With a frown, because she didn't know who to see to check into her room, Holly moved slowly into the room, heading toward the bar and the man standing behind it. As she walked, she noticed a narrow hall that led to another room, but kept on her path, stopping just in front of the grubby-looking bar top.

"Excuse please," she said to the man standing behind counter. "I'm...I've come from quite a distance and...I'm quite tired."

"And windblown," said the old man as he turned around to face her.

Smiling nervously, because Severus had made it clear that it could be dangerous for her to be seen by his kind, Holly brushed at the few strands of her hair that were visible and nodded. "Uh-ha."

"Your name Miss Elspeth?" the man asked as he leaned forward.

Holly blinked. Hearing her middle name, a family name, stopped her for a moment—then, realizing what Severus had done and why, she nodded again.

The old man flashed a toothless grin, then reached in a pocket. "This is for you," he said, then pointed at a handsome wooden staircase. "Your room's number thirteen...just follow the hallway once you get up there."

"Thank you," Holly said, then turned and weaved her way through the crowded room to the stairway.

On the second floor, she saw that the first room was number eleven—it was marked by brass numbers—and that the next room twelve, but quickly realized that the rooms were not after that in number order. She walked the length of the hall, turned a corner, then found her room at the farthest end. Quickly unlocking the door, she slipped inside and closed the door, then crossed the small room and plopped down on the bed, noticing immediately that it was quite comfortable. For a moment, she lay there, eyes closed—then opened them and sat up to look around. The furniture was all of polished oak; a long, low dresser with an odd mirror hanging over it, a rickety old chair in the corner, and a large-mantled fireplace just across from the four-poster bed that she sat upon. To the right of the fireplace, the door she'd come in—to the left, another door. And on the wall closest to _that_ door, heavy drapes hung on either side of a small window.

Sighing, Holly pulled herself to her feet—she was freezing and wanted to warm herself by the crackling fire.

"Thank _God_ someone thought to start this for me," she mumbled as she yanked off her gloves, knelt down, and shoved her hands as close to the flames as she dared. As cold as she was though, it didn't take long to warm up, making her realize the room was quite warm already. Smiling, she pulled off her coat and tossed it on the bed, then went to the window.

"_What_ are you doing?" came a voice from directly behind her.

Her smile widening, Holly spun around. "_Severus_!" she all but squealed as she went to him.

Grabbing her arm, the man pulled her away from the window, then raised his wand and, waving it, closed the drapes. "What _were_ you thinking, woman?" he snarled.

Holly shrugged. "I guess I wasn't," she answered. "Sorry."

"You _must_ be more careful than that," he lectured.

She nodded. "I said I'm sorry."

Staring at her for a few seconds, Severus sighed—he was well aware that this was all new to her and, though her actions continually frustrated him, he sympathized with her lack of understanding—then he too nodded.

Flinging her arms around the man, Holly said, "I've missed you." And she had. In the not quite three months that she'd been seeing Severus Snape, she'd hardly _seen_ him at all—only about once every three weeks—and she didn't like it. And neither did he, it would seem, because, when she'd received his last owl and responded with a complaint, he'd secured this room for them to meet.

Reaching down, Severus grabbed and pulled her up against him, then pressed his lips to hers in a demanding kiss.

"I guess you missed me too," she said when he finally let her breath.

"I did."

"Hey! How did you get here? Did you Apparate?"

He gave a clipped nod. "Of course."

"But, I didn't hear it," she said, remembering the loud cracking sound she'd heard when he'd Apparated them both before.

"I arrived earlier." Then, at her questioning look, he went on. "I was...using the toilet when you came in." Her grin telling him she found that humorous, he said, "_Wizards_ must do that too."

"Hmm. A loo-using wizard?"

Severus just narrowed his dark eyes at her.

"So, no one knows you're here?" she asked.

"They do not."

She grinned. "How long can you stay?"

"I have to be back for classes first thing tomorrow."

For a moment she pouted—then visibly, she shook it off and smiled up at him suggestively. "All right. What would you like to do, Mr. Snape?"

His eyes glittering, Severus' lips quirked with mischief. "I know what I'd _like_ to do, but...that'll have to wait. I thought I'd take you somewhere first."

"You want...to go _out_?"

He nodded.

"And, how do you purpose we do _that_?" she asked in disbelief.

Severus smirked. "I _am_ a master at potions, Holly. Did you think I'd not come prepared?"

She shrugged.

Reaching into his robes, Severus produced a large phial and held it up. "I will drink this potion," he said. "It will turn me into someone else. Rather, make me _appear_ to be someone else."

Holly's eyes widened. "_Really_?"

He nodded.

"Is it dangerous?" she asked with obvious worry.

"It is..._revolting_, but no, not dangerous."

Frowning, Holly shook her head. "Maybe you shouldn't do it then."

"But if I do, then we can be seen together outside this room."

Holly grinned. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Drink!"

"I should have known that you'd be game for anything," he growled, then pulled out the stopper and drank deeply. Then shuddering—Polyjuice Potion tasted vile—Severus gagged, then nearly retched, then went to his knees.

"_Severus_?" Holly said worriedly, going quickly to the man. But she stopped when he held a hand up to halt her.

"Give me a minute," he said, keeping his back to her—he didn't want her to see him until the transformation was complete. Then after that minute, he stood up and turned around—and that is when she discovered the change.

"Severus?" she said with a frown. "Is that really you?"

He nodded.

Slowly moving up beside him, Holly leaned close and examined his now hazel eyes and brownish hair. "Are you _sure_?"

"_Of course_," he drawled out in a voice she very much recognized.

"Holy cricket!" she said as she reached up and touched his face, which was somewhat stubbly now, and gazed into eyes that were now as light as they usually were dark. Then she weaved her hands into his hair, balled her fists and yanked his face to hers. After a short kiss, which he returned, she leaned back and smiled. "This is just too weird."

Glancing at the mirror on the wall and seeing someone else's face, Severus nodded. "For you and me both," he said as his fingers moved quickly, unbuttoning his usual cloak. Whipping it off, he used his wand to hang it up on a hook by the door, then pulled on another...also black, but more billowy and in no way similar to the one he'd just removed.

"Here, put this on," he then said to Holly, handing her a similar cloak, hers full-length to cover her Muggle clothing—and black too.

"Why do you always wear black?" she asked. "It's dreadful."

Severus ignored her question, but did speak. "Come now, we have an hour before we'll either have to return or I'll have to take more of that foul potion."

"Where are we going?" she asked as she allowed him to pull her from the room and down the stairs to the noisy barroom.

"Into _my world_, of course," he said, taking her into the back corner of the room and through a door—and out to Diagon Alley.


	5. Severus Snape

**Author's Note**

Please **note** that this is a REPOST (after being deleted...see author's note in chapter four).

The deleted Chapter Four is now **Chapter ****Five** (and it has not been changed since its first posting...and it's _still_ just Severus and Holly...and it's _still_ just working on background...haven't gotten up to the (semi) present yet).

* * *

**Word Count: **2,011

* * *

**Severus Snape** (April 1997)

Severus left the dungeons immediately following his last class and headed determinedly outside, intent on using the secret passage from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. He'd decided to travel by train, from Hogsmeade in Scotland to Platform 9¾ at King's Cross Station in London, so as to have time to get his thoughts in order—because, at the moment, he was completely at a loss. Over the last two months he'd sent several owls to home of Holly Granger—all of which had been ignored—and now he wanted to know what was going on. He'd told her that it was a dark time in the wizarding world, and that he might not be able to come see her often—or at all—but he hadn't expected that she would ignore his messages altogether. It felt like rejection, and that brought old hurts to the surface.

But it also frightened him, because he didn't know if she'd somehow been found again by Dolohov—though he thought not. He'd been surprised to find Dolohov skulking around outside the Leaky Cauldron. So surprised, in fact, that he'd made mention of it at the last gathering of Death Eaters, playing on their fears about staying unseen—for the time being—and he'd seen neither hide nor hair of the man since. But that didn't mean he wasn't still out there looking for _Hermione_ Granger—and mistaking Holly Granger for her cousin, a seventeen year old student at Hogwarts.

However, halfway to the Whomping Willow, Severus changed his mind. Reversing his direction, he headed for the main Hogwarts gate. Then, once outside, he Disapparated—it would be so much faster and, _really_, what did he have to think about anyway? Plain and simple, he wanted to know why the woman was ignoring his letters.

Though it was considered most rude to Apparate into someone's home without being invited, Severus couldn't very well just appear on her front porch and chance being seen by a passing Muggle—so he Apparated right into her entry.

For a few moments he just stood there, considering his options. He knew she was home, because he could hear her telly, so he followed the sound until he found her—she was snuggled under her favorite blanket on her overstuffed sofa, sleeping.

His lips twitching at the picture she made—curled on her side and sound asleep—his worry over her safety and frustration that she hadn't seen fit to respond to _any_ of his owls evaporated immediately. Crouching down, he fingered the long dark hair that waved over her shoulder, then laid a hand on her upper arms and whispered her name.

With a groggy groan, Holly opened her eyes. "Severus?" she said with a frown. "Why are you here?"

"Not exactly the welcome I was hoping for," he said dryly. Then he frowned. Her cheeks were crusted with tears that had long since dried and the whites around her greenish eyes were riddled with red lines. "You've been crying."

"Go away, Severus," she whined, turning her head from him.

Confused, Severus yanked his hand from her, then rose to an upright position and took a step back. "Have I done something to offend?" he asked, trying desperately to figure out what was wrong before she could tell him.

Holly shook her head.

"Then _why_ do you ask me to leave?" he asked, wishing she'd look at him so he could see into her mind. He tried not to do it often—use Legilimency on her—because it put them in a row, which he couldn't seem to win, and he didn't want that. As disagreeable as he'd grown to be, he didn't like seeing her upset.

"Because you have made it plain that you can't be here," she explained. "And I don't want to keep you where you do not want to be."

Severus frowned. He'd told her it was _dangerous_—for both of them—for him to be there, but _never_ that he didn't want to be. "I've sent you owls. Did you not receive them?" he asked, considering the possibility that they hadn't arrived for whatever reason...or worse, that they'd been intercepted, and someone now knew about her.

"No, I received them," she said as she pulled them—eleven in all—from under her blanket and tossed them over her body where they fell all willy-nilly to the floor. They were all opened and slightly rumpled...and splotched from her tears.

"Then _why_ haven't you _responded_?" he growled with frustration—which caused her to jump. Then, realizing how it might look, because he was still standing over her with an angry expression, he forced himself to relax, then knelt again. "Why have you ignored my owls, Holly?" he asked with more patience—though not much more.

"Because. Because I didn't want you to see me...and what I have become."

Severus blinked. "What you've become? Sit up and look at me."

Vigorously, she shook her head, but didn't respond otherwise.

"Holly. This is ridiculous!" he snapped. "Sit up! Talk to me."

Slowly, Holly turned over, taking her blanket with her as she moved and scrunching it up on her lap.

"Are you cold?" he asked. Then, not waiting for an answer, he immediately pulled out his wand and created a fire in her fireplace—which made her smile despite her desolation. "Wine. You should have some wine," he went on, then moved to get her some.

"No, Severus!" she burst. "I mean. Thank you, but...I don't want wine."

"All right," he said, eyeing her suspiciously. She'd never turned down a glass of wine. "May I sit down?" he asked politely.

Nodding, Holly scooched over and looked away.

"Look at me," he said again.

"No. Uh-ah," she said, keeping her eyes turned away so that he couldn't see them.

Taking a deep breath, Severus said, "Fine then. _Talk_ to me."

"It's not the right time," she said. "You are...busy. You should go."

Frowning again, Severus scratched his head. "You are not making sense. Yes, I have been...wrapped up with...things. I told you that bad things are happening and that I'd be busy, but...that doesn't mean I don't _want_ to see you. I have come today, because you have ignored my letters. Why haven't you responded?"

Sighing, Holly closed her eyes, then moved aside her blanket. "Because I'm _pregnant_, Severus," she said wearily. "And I know how much you don't want this." Then turning from him, Holly let herself fall back onto the sofa, crying softly—almost too softly for him to even hear her.

Surprised for only a moment, Severus swallowed, then spoke. "And...you weren't even going to tell me."

From her hunched up ball, she shrugged.

"Not even _afterward_?" he asked, thinking about Raveena and how she'd hoped to force him into marriage by using her son. "You were going to...just _stop_ seeing me, without an explanation...without telling me about..._this_?" He gestured angrily at her middle.

"I didn't see the point," she cried defensively.

Scowling, the black-eyed man sneered, "No _point_?" Instantly he was on his feet pacing, his robes snapping each time he turned. "You didn't see a point in telling me I'm going to be _a father_?" he growled furiously. He truly didn't _want_ to be a father—because of circumstance he couldn't control—but...the child was coming and, though he didn't think he was ready to say he loved Holly Granger, he did want to do right by her. Part of him thought the best way to do that was to disappear completely. But he couldn't do that, because he was a selfish man.

And then he halted his movement and turned on her—just as she pushed off the sofa. Standing up straight, Holly didn't pace. Instead, she glared at him, then turned and fled the room.

Sighing when he heard a door in the back of her small home slam, Severus followed her—only to be stopped by her locked bedroom door. "You can't keep me out, Holly," he snarled.

"Don't you _dare_ do it, Severus Snape!" she yelled from the other side. "I'm warning you."

Rolling his eyes, Severus pulled out his wand and said, "_Alohomora_."

Instantly, the lock tripped and the door opened, and Severus came face to face with a very angry woman. Her face was even turning purple.

"Oh, _stop this_!" he said before she could blow up.

"Severus," she said after a deep breath and long sigh, "you've made it _perfectly_ clear that you don't want—"

"We will get married," he interrupted, deciding instantly that, no matter what else happened in the days and months to come, he wanted to have at least _one thing_ that was pure and innocent—as pure and innocent as it could be at this point.

Pushing at the hair that had fallen in her face, Holly glanced up at the man she'd fallen for. She obviously didn't think him serious. "But...I thought..."

"I cannot say how long I will be around, Holly, but...I _do_ want you," he said. "And, if you'll have me, then I want to do right by you."

Biting her lip, Holly sat up. "Of course. Of course I'll _have_ you," she replied. "I just didn't want to make demands on you."

"But we have to get a few things in order," he immediately continued.

She nodded.

"We can't tell _anyone_...at least for a time. My world is..._completely_ upside down and yours can't know about it."

She nodded again. Her parents were traveling over seas and she rarely had more than a ten minute phone conversation with them—and her aunt and uncle were _just_ as busy.

"And, I'll have to enchant your house...put some spells on it," he said as he considered her safety. It would be best if he performed the Fidelius Charm—but didn't know what to do about a Secret Keeper.

He considered Albus Dumbledore, then quickly decided against it. With everything that was happening—with what the old Headmaster had made him promise—it wouldn't be right.

Professor McGonagall? Perhaps. She'd definitely do it if he asked. There'd never been any issues between them, though he often took issue with the students of her House. Just thinking about Potter, Weasley, and Granger made his eyes glitter angrily. Then his onyx eyes fell on Holly and softened.

But he didn't have time now to think about the woman, or his annoying students.

Then someone else came to mind._ If you should ever need me, I'll be only an owl away._ Septima Vector! She'd be perfect...but he worried about what Holly would think of her—after all, he and Septima had been lovers beforehand. Then, dismissing his worry, because Holly's safety was much more important than her pride, he started thinking about what he needed to do. If he didn't choose a Secret Keeper, he could do it himself, just as Dumbledore had done on number twelve Grimmauld Place, but he most definitely should have at least a couple people aware of what he was doing—just in case.

"I'd like you to meet someone," he said, almost nervously. "Someone from my world that can help keep both you and the baby safe...even if something happens to me."

"Oh Severus, don't talk like that," Holly begged, clearly more worried than ever.

"We must be realistic," he said. "I haven't been joking about how bad things are right now. People are...dying." He couldn't bring himself to tell her that he'd made vows to two different people that might actually force _him_ to take a life, or die himself if he broke the vow. "I could very well be next," he said in a low voice.

Holly opened her mouth to protest, but found herself looking up into the dark depths of Severus' eyes.

"Don't argue with me, Holly," he whispered gently, but commandingly as he raised a hand to her cheek and caressed it. "Just trust me. I promise you that I know what's best."

At this, Holly nodded.


	6. 3 Witches, 2 Wizards & 1 PG Wife

**Author's Note**

**Chapter Six**...we're getting closer to meeting some kids...but...not yet. :p

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**Word Count: **3,709

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**Three Witches, Two Wizards & One Pregnant Wife** (May 1997)

Pacing inside a dimly lit room at the Leaky Cauldron, the very same room they'd had before, Severus frowned—Holly hadn't shown up yet and he was worried. With everything that was going on, it infuriated him that she refused to stay put—that he had to keep checking on her. And it wasn't easy because he was constantly busy at Hogwarts. He'd asked her to stay home, but she just wouldn't. It made him wonder if she was even taking him seriously at all. It could possibly be a joke to her, since she wasn't of his world, but aside from casting a spell directly _on_ her—which she'd have a fit about—what could he do? He'd placed some minor enchantments on her house and her Muggle car—including the Anti-Apparation spell and the Anti-Disapparation Jinx, to keep witches and wizards from popping in and out if they somehow sensed her—so that she'd be relatively safe from detection. But they'd yet to perform the Fidelius Charm, a much more complex spell than anything he'd done to protect her so far. And he had a few other spells in mind as well, but wanted to discuss them first.

But it was rather difficult to discuss them when she _wasn't there_. "Where _are_ you?" he hissed to the room at large.

Then he heard a light tapping on the door and, stocking over to it, he swung it wide and growled, "_Where_ have you been?"

Smiling, because she positively adored her strangely dark and brooding husband, Holly Elspeth Snape swished into the room, dumped several packages on the bed, then spun around and said, "Well, hello to you too."

"I was...worried," he said, his voice strained, but also greatly relieved.

"I _phoned_ you," she replied. "But you didn't pick up. As _usual_," she added with a roll of her blue-green eyes.

Frowning, Severus reached into a fold of his robes and pulled out the strange Muggle communication device she'd given him—she'd called it a mobile. He'd heard it make a strange noise—several times, actually—but didn't know how to use it, so he didn't bother looking at it.

Seeing his furrowed brow and narrowed eyes as he stared at his phone with confusion, Holly sighed. "You _still_ haven't read the little instruction book, have you?"

"As if I have time for reading _Muggle_ books," he said derisively. It was said in a low voice—almost under his breath—but she'd clearly heard him, because her brow raised in question and her hands went to her hips the way they always did when he'd mistakenly insulted her about something.

"And, have you _seen_ the size of that _little book_? I have potions books smaller than this thing!" he growled as he whipped it from an inside pocket and waved it about.

Ignoring his rhetorical question, she instead posed a question of her own. "Do you forget that your _wife_ is one of those nasty Muggles you loathe so much?"

Still holding the phone in one hand and the book in the other, Severus pursed his lips. "I never said I don't like Muggles."

"Humph!"

Her arms were now crossed, settled just under her breasts and resting on her growing stomach.

"I know at least _one Muggle_ that I like _very_ much," he offered, his black eyes glittering.

Sighing, Holly uncrossed her arms, then held them up and spun around once. "How do you like my new cape?" she asked, changing the subject.

Raising a brow, Severus eyed her and her long, flowing, midnight blue _witch's_ robes. "You went to Diagon Alley again, I see," he said, his tone flat—he hated it when she went there.

It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. "Yes. I did," she said, flashing him a grin, her eyes twinkling. "But don't worry," she said as she came up to him and slipped her arms around his waist, "I went _during_ the week, just like you said, so..." She went up on her toes and kissed him. "My cousin didn't see me. I promise."

Standing rigidly, and as tall as possible so that she had to really stretch to reach him, Severus scowled. "There are _a lot_ of people I don't want seeing you, Holly...not just Miss Granger, who wouldn't be in Diagon Alley _any time_ while school is in session, during the week or otherwise.

"I don't think you realize the _danger_ you put yourself in every time you come into my world," he went on with a frustrated frown. "If the wrong..._people_...become aware of you..." He shook his head. "I would never forgive myself." Between his teaching duties and keeping _Potter_ out of harm's way, spying on the Dark Lord and bringing information back to the Order, and keeping Holly safe, he was stretched quite thin and didn't think he was doing a very good job at anything. "Promise me you will be extra diligent," he said, knowing he'd not be able to stop her from doing such dangerous things, and resenting the fact that he had so many responsibilities.

"But I never _see you_, Severus," she whined. "The only reason you're here now is because I threatened to come whether you did or not."

"And I should _not_ have come. You'd have been safer being here without me."

"But I didn't _want_ to be here without you," she said, passing him a flirtatious grin. "I _miss_ you."

Pursing his lips again, he let his eyes rove over her. It had been some time since they'd been in the same room—nearly three weeks, not that it could be helped—and she looked delicious. A full seven months now—and huge—there was no longer any question that she was pregnant, so meeting her at the Leaky Cauldron was even more dangerous. What if someone saw them and put two and two together? He couldn't let that happen. But he also couldn't tell her no when she sent him an owl saying she was coming "no matter what" he said. And now, alone with her in the room, he wanted to rip her clothes off and toss her in bed—gently, of course—but they were meeting others and didn't have time for such things.

Sighing, Severus tried to relax. He had to admit he was glad to have her here, regardless of the danger. Holding her to his chest for a moment, he squeezed tenderly, so as not to harm the baby, then set her from him. "We should go," he said, all business-like.

Rolling her eyes, Holly shook her head. "Not yet. I brought you some...stuff," she said with a wave of her hand, then frowned. "To be honest, I have _no idea_ what I bought, but the bloke at the Apothecary made this stuff seem important," she said as she pulled out a bag and handed it to the man. "And oh! And I bought you a new pot because that one you're using just looks horrendous!" she said, her nose wrinkled up as she handed him a very large, brown paper-wrapped package.

Staring at her, Severus couldn't help but let out a snort—and then a guttural laugh. A cauldron wasn't something you just _replaced_ when it got old or, as she'd put it, 'horrendous.' Part of the charm of a well-used cauldron was that it was seasoned. But she didn't know that and he wasn't going to tell her.

"Thank you," he said with a tight smile.

"Well, aren't you going to at least open the bag and see what I got you?"

Frowning, Severus went to the bed and opened the large brown paper bag. Then, pulling out several smaller packages, he unwrapped the first and glanced up at her. "Sopohorous beans?"

She nodded. "When I told the proprietor, Mr. Jigger, that I was looking for asphodel, he asked me if I needed sopohorous beans as well, so I figured they went together," she explained. "I bought the asphodel in root form though, because he said most people like to powder it themselves."

Severus nodded. "That is correct."

"He was out of valerian root, but there's wormwood in there," she said as she pointed at a third package. "What are these for anyway?"

"You don't want to know," he said. Then, because she rolled her bright eyes—eyes which now looked very blue against the midnight robes—he sighed. "It's for Draught of Living Death...a very dangerous potion that I usually mention in the first years' class, but isn't made until they're in their fifth year. And even then most of them are too incompetent to make it properly."

"Oh! I'm sorry. Should I have gotten something else?"

Shaking his head, Severus said, "No. This is perfect actually...I was running out of all of this." He hadn't told her that, though he'd always taught Potions, he'd been given the Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year—but he could always use more potion-making materials.

Grinning, she said, "Open the rest."

**XxXxXxX**

After rebagging all the things Holly had purchased for him, Severus brushed her lips with his and forced out another thank you, then once again said they should go—one at a time, of course, so no one became suspicious. She'd driven here, in that silly little Muggle car of hers—which he'd ridden in a total of three times...an _interesting_ experience, to say the least—so they'd have to take that. He'd wanted to enchant the vehicle, so that they could travel faster, but she'd flatly refused the offer, saying that it worked just fine the way it was—though he didn't understand this a bit since she seemed to be fascinated with all other things magical.

She would walk out first, of course, and he'd Apparate to the car when the coast was clear—which he'd know because she'd call him when it was—she didn't trust that he'd _just know_. She'd given him a quick tutorial on how to answer his mobile—push "send"—so he _should_ be able to do this. Why "send" for answering, he didn't know.

And so, when he got the call, he went, appearing beside her in the parking lot and startling her.

"_OH_!" she screamed—then mumbled, "I don't know why that always scares me...even when I know you're coming," as she got into her vehicle. "I wish you'd let me teach you to drive," she said once they were on the road.

Severus frowned at this. "It is not necessary and...I don't have the time," he said, his dark eyes turning toward the window and the passing buildings.

She rolled her eyes. "If you learnt to drive, then I'd not have to pick you up at the Leaky Cauldron."

"You _don't_ have to," he said sarcastically. "I could just Apparate somewhere close to your house, then walk there. And we both know you'd come to the Leaky Cauldron even so. How is it that you get into Diagon Alley anyway?" he asked. "I have not yet figured that out." And it was making him crazy.

Smiling, Holly said, "That's for me to know and you to..._not_ find out."

At this Severus snorted. "You are lucky that you're driving or I'd..._pull_ the information from your mind," he said, his hand making a gesture that mimicked him grasping something—her thoughts—in his closed fist.

She rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "You know I _hate it_ when you do that, right?" she said with a quick glance over at him. "It's not fair to use your magic on me when I have no way to protect myself."

"I can't help that," he said matter-of-factly.

"But you _can help_ using your legitimatecy on me," she countered with frustration.

"Legilimency," he corrected, his face straight—but amused by her mistake.

"_Whatever_!" she snapped, waving her hand dismissively. "It's _still_ not fair, by whatever name you call it," she continued, looking at him again—a little too long this time...and she knew it when his eyes flashed angrily.

"_Lupin_!" he snarled. Of _course_ it was Lupin!"

Frowning, Holly looked back at the road. "I don't know why you had him witness our marriage if you hate him so much. That's just ridiculous!"

After a few minutes of silence, he answered. "Because I know I can trust him to keep it to himself," he said, feeling somewhat guilty that he'd made the werewolf promise to keep _their_ marriage secret from his own wife-to-be, Nymphadora Tonks. Like the man she'd soon marry—Remus Lupin—Nymphadora was part of the Order of the Phoenix, but she didn't much like or trust Severus—which made it difficult for Severus to trust her. But his trust was about to be offered, whether he liked it or not—and maybe she'd offer hers in return.

"Still, you shouldn't hate your friends, Severus," she said with a sad shake of her head.

Severus snorted. "Lupin is _not_ my friend!" Then quietly—sadly—he said, "I don't have friends."

At this, Holly laughed. "_I'm_ your friend," she said, her hand leaving the wheel, then snaking out and grasping his. "And, you _do_ have friends. What about Septima?" she asked. Septima had witnessed for Holly on the day they'd married—since she couldn't very well ask a Muggle.

"I wouldn't call Septima a friend, Holly," he said quietly.

Rolling her eyes again, Holly braked, then turned the corner onto her street, then glanced over at her husband. "I know all about your past with Septima, Severus, so don't deny that she's a friend to you."

His head snapping in her direction, he narrowed his eyes at her. "How do you know about...? What did she tell you?"

"_She_ told me nothing, Severus," Holly said. "It was only a suspicion...until now."

Frowning, Severus said, "You tricked me." It wasn't something that happened often and he didn't like it. A long life in the wizarding world had taught him to read people, but Muggles were...different. And _she_ was impossible at times.

Smiling, Holly nodded. "And you fell for it...hook, line, and sinker!" she said proudly. "I'm good, huh? Who says a mere Muggle doesn't have any magical talent?"

At this Severus actually chuckled. Then, with all seriousness, he said, "You are not angry?"

Shrugging, Holly said, "I thought it was strange that you insisted I meet her. And I could tell that it was important to you that I liked her." She shrugged again.

"Do you?"

Holly shrugged. "Sure I do. She's quite...nice. _Everyone_ I've met has been."

Severus snorted. "You _must_ trust me that not _everyone_ from my world is nice. There is a great growing evil all around us."

Holly nodded. "I believe you," she said. "And not just because I know there are always evil people out there...but because you've told me. I believe _you_, Severus."

He eyed her, but didn't comment. Her ability to place unconditional trust in him amazed him—he'd never experienced that before.

"But...what's past is past, Severus. You can no more take back past lovers than I can," she said, reverting back to his question about her being angry with him.

He didn't say anything to this either, because he didn't want to hear about her 'past lovers.'

"And speaking of...past lovers," she said quietly. "Don't you think you owe your son a visit?"

Severus cringed. He should have known this was coming. Why he'd told her about Evanius was something he'd never understand. They'd been sitting together talking and...it had just come out. He'd almost expected her to become furious and send him away—part of him hoped that she would—but she hadn't. Instead, she'd said that his son deserved to have his father. Of course he disagreed with her, saying that Raveena and the boy were safer without him around, but she'd been harassing him about it constantly. She'd even threatened to find the woman herself, which terrified him. Raveena, though a squib herself, was the youngest in a long line of pure-bloods—and they'd not like a Muggle contacting any one of them.

Finally, he'd had to promise to do what she wanted—at the very least send an owl—but not until the danger had passed. But that could be some time. Things seemed to be speeding up, but there was no telling when—or if—the danger would be over. And because of this, he'd made Holly swear that she'd stay away from Raveena.

"I told you..._after_," he said. "You do remember that...yes?"

Signing, Holly pulled into her driveway and turned off the car. "Yeah, I might not be as smart as a witch, but..._that part_ I remember perfectly."

"Wife, we both know you're plenty intelligent," he said. "But I'm not sure that you're _not_ a witch. For instance, you sure seem quite capable of bewitching _me_ at every turn."

Flashing him a delighted grin, Holly turned and got out of the car, then floated—not literally—up to the front walk.

Following more slowly, Severus watched her smooth gliding walk and couldn't help but wonder what kind of magic she did have. It may not be the sort that allowed her admittance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but he was certain that she had _something_—that was obvious, because she'd _completely_ bewitched him!

"Why _blue_?" he asked nastily as he followed behind her.

Laughing, Holly said, "I _wondered_ when you'd ask that." Then shrugging, she went on. "My eyes looked more blue when I was shopping, so _blue_ seemed more appropriate."

"Your eyes are much more _my_ house color," Severus argued. "_Green_ would have been perfect."

"You have a problem with Ravenclaw House colors, do you?" she asked. She'd always looked best in blue.

"Aside from the fact that they are not _my_ house colors...I suppose not."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Well, _you_ don't even wear _your_ house colors, so...why should I?"

Frowning, Severus nodded. "Point taken."

"So, you wear your..._dreadful_ all black," she continued, wrinkling her nose, "and I'll wear...whatever the hell color I'd like. Probably won't wear Hufflepuff yellow though, because...well...I look _dreadful_ in yellow. But green and blue...and _red_...are colors I do like."

"I don't hate blue," he conceded reluctantly.

"Fine then, I'll try to limit my robes to blue and green...and black."

He smiled evilly then. "I'd like to show you where your robes _truly_ belong," he said as he maneuvered her into the house—and a hand into her robe to grope at her.

Grinning, she said, "Yeah? Where's that?"—then she pranced away, leaving him standing in the entryway alone.

At this he growled again, then followed her into the main living space. "You really _are_ a witch, Holly Elspeth Snape," he snarled—which made her giggle. "You know we don't have time for this, and yet you tease anyway," he went on. "Come over here and _take off_ that robe...before I take it off _for you_," he said as he brandished his wand.

"Uh-ah," she warned, a single finger held up and wagging at him. "You'd better use that wand to remove that Anti-Apparation spell you cast...we have _company_ coming," she reminded him as she moved behind the sofa—not that that would help her in any way, should he choose to just magic her clothing away.

His eyes glittering, Severus wagged his wand as she'd done with her finger and countered with, "Not if I don't remove the spell."

"You _wouldn't_!" she gasped, eyes wide.

"Would you like to put it to the test?"

"But...you _have to_...they'll be waiting."

"_They can wait_," he said as he moved slowly around the sofa and drew her into his arms.

"And so can you!" she hissed, though she very much wanted to give in to him. "I'm not sure _I can_ though," she whispered as his mouth crashed down on hers. The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the dining room table and he was leaning over her, his long black robes covering them both.

And then, with a flash of light and a loud cracking noise, they were no longer alone.

Straightening, Severus yanked his wife to her feet, his gaze flashing to their guests.

"I guess you already lifted that spell, huh?" Holly asked her husband with a smirk. Then, after a quick glance at those who'd arrived, she looked up at her husband and whispered, "Well, I suppose you'll have to visit again then...if you want _something_ from me."

His eyes narrowed, Severus quirked his lips up into his version of a smile—a smile most would see as a scowl, but he knew that she saw something else. "You'll use any means to get what you want, won't you?" he accused.

Holly shrugged. "Of course."

"Green very much _is_ your color, my dear," Severus said, his dark eyes going to the four silent people who'd joined them.

"Have we come too soon, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall asked when she had their full attention. She was frowning with typical concern, obviously worried that they'd interrupted something.

"Just soon enough, as far as _I'm_ concerned," snipped Nymphadora Tonks, her hair turning a sickened green. "A few minutes later and we'd have had to witness _far_ more than I think my eyes could take." She glared then at the man beside her. "You should have told me, Remus."

Remus shrugged. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd come if I explained that it was Severus who needs us."

"Of course I would!" she snapped, her hair shifting quickly to an angry red. Casting another glare at the man, she forced her hair to lighten, first to pink, and then to lilac—then she looked again at Snape and the woman. "Snape," she said stiffly, then glanced at the woman. "And you are?"

Holly smiled, then quickly stepped forward. "I'm Holly," she said gaily. "I'm...Severus' wife."

Tonks' eyes widened. "_Wife_?" she coughed out. Then she noticed the woman's rounded belly and nodded. "I see."

"We're here to witness the Fildelius Charm," Septima Vector informed Tonks. "Holly and the baby are very much in need of it."

Still surprised, Tonks managed a nod. "_Obviously_."


	7. A Very Sad Day

**Author's Note**

**Please note that...**this chapter, **Chapter Seven**, has some quoted material in it. I have marked this by underlining it (normally I'd use _italics_, but, since I use them regularly for emphasis, I needed another form...and I couldn't very well use quotes, because that would mess up dialog), so all will know that those words do not belong to me, but to JKR herself. *wonders if readers actually read "author's notes."*

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**Word Count:** 2,770

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**A Very Sad Day** (May 1998)

Holy had tried very hard to keep busy—because things in the non-Muggle world had gone from bad to worse in what seemed like no time at all. A month after their visitors had made her house "safe" for her and her unborn child, something horrific had happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—_someone_ had killed Headmaster Dumbledore. Though she'd never met the Headmaster herself, she knew that Albus Dumbledore was held in high regard throughout most of the wizarding world—though, these days there were exceptions—and that, though there'd been disagreements between the old wizard and her husband, Severus respected the man greatly. That's why it came as a complete shock to her when her husband reluctantly admitted to killing the man himself. He'd said he'd _had to_, because of an Unbreakable Vow—whatever _that_ was—he'd made with the old man, but she'd not understood at the time and wondered what sort of punishment his world would force upon him for such a dastardly deed. Surely he'd be sent to their wizarding prison—whatever it was called—she'd thought.

But that didn't happen. Instead, come fall he took over the position of Headmaster at the school in which he'd been teaching Potions _for years_—and Defense Against the Dark Arts the previous year. The position was given him by the Ministry of Magic, which was, at that time, controlled by people she'd heard her husband call Death Eaters. Just the name of these people inspired terror in her, but Severus had refused to answer her many questions saying that she was safer not knowing. Upon hearing the news about the Death Eater-controlled Ministry, Holly'd begged her husband to resign and come home; all she'd wanted to do was hide, and she wanted her husband to hide with her.

But Severus had refused that too, of course, saying he still had a part to play in all this and couldn't just run off. He'd confessed that he'd once been a Death Eater, but that, though he still bore the Dark Mark on his left forearm—a tattoo of sorts—and professed to the Dark Lord that he was still His man, he was _not_ a part of them now—not really. He did admit, however, to spying on them and bringing the information back to the Order. She'd already known this, but, now that people were dying, she was frightened beyond belief—and very, _very_ proud of her brave husband.

But other things were happening as well. On July 31st, in between all this horror—smashed in _after_ the Fidelius Charm was performed on her house and _before_ Severus became Headmaster—Holly went into labor. Severus had somehow managed to arrive just in time, but complained that the Muggle hospital didn't appear equipped to manage the task of birthing humans. He'd mumbled something about a hospital called St. Mungo's and how they were far more advanced in the ways of healing—though the wizard hospital was for "Magical Maladies and Injuries," which were two areas that Holly insisted childbirth didn't belong. But, though he seemed to think the entire birthing process barbaric, and he wanted to just wave his wand to take away her pain, he looked quite proud when the doctor placed a mewing baby boy in his arms—then shocked when the man announced that a second child was on its way. Holly gave birth to twins that day, just before dawn, and named the tiny, black-haired babies Hunter Severus Snape—Hunter after her own father—and Savannah Dawn Snape.

But their moment of joy was quite brief, however. As his duties at Hogwarts took over when September rolled around, Severus had less and less time for escape. Only seeing his family thrice—one time each month, between October and December—Severus became more and more morose, if that was even possible.

But he hid it well. He'd made such a reputation for himself among the students at Hogwarts that he didn't even need to try and keep up appearances. _Appearances_, for him, were a miserably dark man who found little happiness in anything—so, everything was status quo.

At school, however, he still had to walk a very fine line between maintaining his cover as a Death Eater and protecting the students at Hogwarts from two newly hired professors, a brother and sister pair by the names of Amycus and Alecto Carrow—who'd been installed as the Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies professors, but who were also in charge of all discipline. And they _very much_ liked punishing students for the slightest infraction. At some point during their time at Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom had received a slash to the face for asking Alecto Carrow how much Muggle blood she and her brother had in them—Muggle Studies was now more a lecture on how animal-like, stupid, and dirty Muggles were/are—and another deep gash in his cheek from Amycus Carrow for refusing to use the Cruciatus Curse in Defense Against the Dark Arts—which was now just called the Dark Arts, because they were actively practicing _very_ dark magic on a daily basis.

In December, after conversing with Dumbledore's portrait, Severus had to make a short journey into the ancient Forest of Dean—Dumbledore wanted Godric Gryffindor's sword hidden there for Potter to find—which was bordered by the Rivers Severn and Wye. Severus did what was asked of him, later sending his own Patronus, a silver doe, to help Potter _find_ the sword, so that they could destroy a Horcrux. But, as much as he wanted to do his part in the fight against the Dark Lord, he'd much rather have spent the winter holidays hiding out with Holly and the babies.

The babies, who were nearing five months old by this time, were growing quite rapidly and he was missing everything—and he didn't much like it. It made him all the more resentful when he _did_ see them, because he didn't seem to realize how much time was passing until then. It was so strange when he gazed upon them, mostly in still pictures Holly sent—which he immediately burned so that no one else gained knowledge his progeny—because they looked _very much_ like him. With their pale skin and black hair and eyes, they were tiny replicas of him—except that _they_ were absolutely adorable, and he didn't think he'd ever been.

And Holly, she was working so hard to take care of them, protecting them above all else. Through it all, she'd kept him quite informed, giving him every little detail, because she wanted him to feel as involved as she—much more so than he actually _had been_. She told of the tearful all-nighters she'd pulled, barely able to stand as she walked the floor with a crying baby in each arm—which broke his heart, because he'd have liked to be there to help—and of the happy smiles and peals of babyish laughter that had her giggling delightedly right along with them. But he could tell that she was exhausted. Doing everything alone was taking its toll on her and it made him feel terrible. It was a lot of work—two babies—he'd had no clue prior to this experience, or lack thereof. And yet she was glowing from the experience, her blue-green eyes still bright—making Severus wonder how she managed it.

And she was being smart too. She wasn't making unnecessary trips out like she used to; she'd not visited Diagon Alley, or even the Leaky Cauldron, once—as far as he knew—and she'd started having her groceries delivered. Her upmost priority was taking care of and protecting their babies. She'd obviously do anything for them. Severus had often been confused by Lilly Potter's sacrifice for her son, but now he understood completely, because there was no question in his mind that he'd do the same—and so would his wife.

After December, there came a few quiet months. That didn't mean, however, that Severus was able to see his family much. He saw them once in January, once in February, and twice in April, bringing the grand total number of times he'd laid eyes on his children since their birth up to seven—in nine months.

And then in May everything got worse. He was at Hogwarts, following his usual routine, and then one night—in the middle of the night—his Dark Mark burned, causing him to have to leave his office to investigate. And that is when he discovered Professor McGonagall, her tartan dressing gown rustling over the floor as she floated suspiciously down a corridor.

"Who's there?" she said as she halted, her wand at the ready.

"It is I," Severus said in a low voice. Stepping from behind a suit of armor—he too held his wand up. "Where are the Carrows?" he asked coldly.

"Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus," said Professor McGonagall, her tone quite terse.

Professor McGonagall had been quite cold to him since the Dumbledore incident, not that he blamed her. But it did hurt. He was as much a part of an Order as she and yet she'd not given him even a moment to explain—not that he would have, because Dumbledore has specifically told him not to. _That crazy old dead wizard always _did_ ask too much_! Severus mused as he eyed Professor McGonagall. The witch had turned on him—they all had. To her credit, she'd not tried to visit his wife—neither had Remus, Tonks, or Septima, for which he'd be eternally grateful. But he'd wondered what it meant. Had they truly turned on him, or where they too playing their part?

Stepping closer to the woman, Severus let his eyes flit over her and into the air around her, but didn't let them settle on anything specific. Not able to actually _see_ anything there didn't discourage him from knowing that someone actually _was_there—Potter, he was sure, skulking around under his invisibility cloak. Why he'd spent so much time trying to help a boy who hated him, he didn't know—but for Lily..._anything_.

"I was under the impression," he finally said, "that Alecto had apprehended an intruder."

"Really?" said Profesor McGonagall. "And what gave you that impression?"

Frowning, Severus flexed his left arm, where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin, but didn't say anything.

"Oh, but naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication, I forgot."

His eyes still probing the air all around the woman, and moving gradually closer, Severus pretended not to have heard her. But he had, of course, and they were biting. "I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva," he said suspiciously.

"You have some objection?"

His eyes narrowing on the woman, Severus frowned. "I wonder what could have brought you out of her bed at this late hour?" he said, hating the obvious loathing he felt emanating from the woman. She was _some_ actor, if she was indeed staying in character.

"I thought I heard a disturbance," said Professor McGonagall.

"Really? But all seems calm," he returned, his black eyes looking into her beady ones. Then he decided to just come out and ask what he already suspected.

"Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist—"

And then it happened; Professor McGonagall's wand slashed through the air, causing several things to happen in succession—torches flying from the wall, fire filling the corridor, which turned into a black serpent, then a whole lot of smoke, and then flying daggers that pierced the suits of armor—which in turn caused Severus to flee. He could hear their pursuit—Professor McGonagall had been joined by Professors Flitwick and Sprout, one of which called him a murderer. And the last thing he heard as he flew, bat-like, through a classroom window and floated down off the castle grounds for the last time, was Professor McGonagall calling him a coward.

But none of it really mattered, because he knew he still had a job to do—a part to play in this final battle. Again, that's not to say that all of this didn't hurt, because it definitely did. Everyone believed him to be in the pocket of the Dark Lord—including the Dark Lord himself. Only two had truly trusted him; the Dark Lord was one, and Dumbledore the other.

As Severus fled, he'd thought about the things that had happened over his many years at Hogwarts. He'd had quite a few bad years there as a student, with losing Lily Evans to James Potter—and being tormented by the young man and his friends—and then later, while teaching, delighting in the torment of James and Lily's son, Harry. All in all, Severus had grown up into a lonely and bitter man—until Holly Granger came along. And now finally, he was finding some peace.

But would it last? Sadly, the answer was no.

**XxXxXxX**

Holly, who'd tried very hard to keep herself busy all day, sat resting in her favorite chair staring at, but not really watching, the telly—and trying desperately not to think about what might be happening in her husband's world. It was a week into the month of May and she hadn't receive so much as a note from Severus in two weeks since she'd seen him last. In the nine months since the babies had been born, she'd seen Severus all of seven times—he'd come the day they were born, then only sporadically thereafter—and her heart was breaking.

And then she heard the familiar sound of an owl clicking on her window.

Grinning, she got to her feet to let the bird in—but was disappointed to find that it wasn't Severus' owl. Standing there staring, Holly felt a wave of dread wash over her—Severus had never once sent an owl that was not his own, and she'd never received an owl from someone else. Then, because she couldn't bear to know, she turned her back and walked away. The owl, of course, followed her—it expected to be paid—and when it was, it left, leaving a letter floating in the air in front of her, seemingly waiting for her to be ready to hear it.

With a sigh, Holly nodded, and so came the news:

Dear Mrs. Severus Snape,

It grieves me to report that, on the first of May, 1998, during the Battle of Hogwarts-about an

hour before dawn-Severus Snape received a fatal bite from the large snake known by the

name of Nagini. Though it probably won't bring you much comfort now, Nagini has paid for her

crimes against your husband-and others-with the loss of her own life. (Full details of the incident

are available, should you so choose to hear them.)

Further, I am, for lack of better words, pleased to report that the Dark Lord has finally fallen,

freeing both Muggles and wizards alike, from his cruel tyranny and hatred. Unfortunately, a great

many lives were lost in the battle, including two who you've recently become acquainted; Remus

Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora-you knew her as 'Tonks'—and sadly, many, many more.

At this time we ask that you don't make any sudden moves, as someone will be contacting you

shortly-there is the matter of Severus' estate to be settled.

Again, I am so very sorry for your loss.

Yours sincerely,  
_Professor M. McGonagall  
_Headmistress at HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

For several minutes Holly stared at the floating, self-read letter that had just informed her of her husband's death. He died of a snake bite? It seemed too surreal to be the truth—and yet she knew that it was. He'd warned her that it might happen, that his death was a definite possibility, but she'd refused to believe him. And now he was gone.

Tears filled her eyes as she reached out, her hand trembling, and plucked the letter from the air. She continued to stare at it for a few more moments, but soon realized that she couldn't read it through her tears. Pressing it to her breast, she heaved a sob, then made her way back to her chair. Once there, she dropped into it, then curled up into a ball and fell asleep.

It was a very sad day.


	8. Though Unwelcomed, a Pleasant Visit

**Author's Note**

Though I don't think anyone's reading...here you go...**Chapter Eight**. =)

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**Word Count: **3,049

* * *

**Though Unwelcomed, a Pleasant Visit** (a few weeks into May 1998)

Her mobile buzzing loudly, Holly just stared at the offending device—then sighed with relief when it finally ceased its incessant wail. With thoughts of putting it on silent—or completely chucking the bloody thing—she turned empty blue-green eyes on a cold and dark fireplace, and wished her husband was there to light it for her—not that she couldn't do it herself, but she missed him desperately and wished she could have just one more night with him. Just one would suffice.

But that was impossible. Severus was dead.

Closing her eyes, Holly willed herself to sleep; she wanted that mindless oblivion where she might actually be able to see her husband again.

After several hours—and almost time for the babies to awake—Holly checked her messages. The call had been her mother. Her mother had called three times this week and she'd not returned one call. This message said that, if she didn't call back sometime in the next twenty-four hours, Elizabeth Anne Elspeth-Granger would be getting on a plane and flying to London. Frowning, because she _definitely_ didn't want her mother to do that, Holly picked up her mobile and sent her mother a text.

_i'm fine mum! just been busy. sorry i haven't ringed back. i'm on holiday, actually...in france. ring you when i get home, okay? _she typed. Then, her thumb hovering over the button to send the text to her mother, she reread it. She hated lying to her mother, but...she _really_ didn't feel like putting on a happy face. Sighing, she pushed the 'ok' button to send. Almost immediately her mobile buzzed again.

_France? Why didn't you tell us? You know how much I love France...I'd have met you there! When does your holiday end? I'll join you._

"Shite!" Holly cursed when she read her mother's text, knowing immediately that she'd picked the wrong country for her pretend holiday. Thinking quickly, and hating herself, she typed out another lie.

_i'm on a cruise, mum, so you can't join me. besides...leaving france for italy tomorrow._

Quickly she pressed 'ok'—before she could chicken out—then waited, feeling terribly guilty for lying. She greatly missed her mother—both her parents, actually, since they'd decided to stay in America—and, now that Severus was gone, wished more than anything that she could just crawl onto her mother's lap and sob out her pain. Plus, there was the fact that her mother would _love_ having grandchildren. Frowning, Holly worried that her mother would never forgive her when she actually did find out.

_Oh! That's fantastic! Well then, as long as everything is all right, I won't bother you. I want to hear EVERYTHING about your holiday when you return. Send us a picture!_

Holy read the text and snorted, wondering how she'd manage that. Glancing over at her old, dusty desktop computer, she wondered if she could find a picture on the Internet—not that she really knew how to use the blasted thing.

_all right. au revoir._

Closing her phone, Holly switched it to silent, then closed her eyes again—only to be awakened a few minutes later with ear-splitting cracking sound and flash of light, which indicated that someone had Apparated right into her house.

"Oh bugger!" she cursed as she jumped to her feet to find two witches standing in front of her. Very much not liking surprises, she glared at the two pointed hat-wearing witches. "I thought you people couldn't just...do that Appear-ation thing into my house!" she snapped with a wave of her hand. "I thought I was protected!"

The elder, green tartan-robed witch glanced at the witch wearing crimson and frowned. "We were correct then. The spell was broken when the Dark Lord fell."

The woman in red shook her head. "Not entirely, I'm afraid," she said. "Don't you feel it? It's like..._something_ doesn't want us here."

At this, Holly snorted—because she absolutely _didn't_ want them there.

Ignoring the Muggle, the witch in green nodded. "Yes, now that you mention it, I agree. This place _does _feel...off-putting." She then let her eyes travel the room. "So, it's just the Anti-Apparation spell that's been broken."

"And I hope the Anti-Disapparation Jinx," the other said with a frown. "How ever would we get back to—"

"_Hello_," Holly interrupted. "Remember me? The woman whose _house_ you're in. What exactly are you two going on about? Are you saying we're no longer protected?" she asked fearfully.

The beady eyes of the witch in green widened. "Oh no, Mrs. Snape. It seems the Fidelius Charm is still up and running. You haven't had any other visitors, have you?"

Holly could only shake her head. She'd had _no_ visitors since they'd cast spells on her, her children, and their home—and she was getting lonely.

"Well then, you should be fine. As we are now the only two remaining witches with knowledge of your existence, and the Fidelius Charm prevents us from mentioning you, you are quite safe. As Secret Keeper, only Severus could have given you away and...well...since he's no longer with us..." She let her voice trail off, because of the pain so clearly present in Holly's luminous eyes.

"Not that _he_ would have, mind you," the other witch put in. "It's just that he would have been the only one who could. But that was explained to you, correct?"

Holly nodded as she looked from one witch to the other in confusion. It was true that the spell had been explained, but all their witchy blathering made little sense to her. "So then, I'm still...invisible?"

The witches shrugged. "Absolutely."

Holly then rolled her eyes. "Well, that's just great, isn't it?" she snapped, then started pacing. "So...why are you here?" she asked, wishing desperately that they'd just bugger off.

At this the green-robed witch's eyes widened. "We've sent several letters by owl, Mrs. Snape. You should have known _someone_ would be coming."

Holly glanced at the post she'd received by owl in the weeks since she'd received the letter telling her Severus had been killed and shivered. "I...I haven't opened them," she said with a nod at the pile. "I just...couldn't."

With another looked at the red-robed witch, the other spoke again. "Be that as it may, we _are_ here."

Holly sighed. "Yes, I can see that," she said irritably. "Well, since you're here...come in, sit down." She gestured at her sofa, then plopped down onto her chair. "Professors McGonagall and Vector, correct?" She'd only met them one time, but, being as they were almost the only people from Severus' world she _had_ met, she'd not forgotten their names.

Their eyes going about the Muggle room, the two witches nodded.

"Or is it just _Mrs_. Vector," she asked once they were seated. She remembered distinctly that Severus had called McGonagall professor, but she couldn't seem to remember whether or not the other woman—the one he'd had an affair with—was also one. And it completely slipped her mind that McGonagall was now the Headmistress of the wizard school.

"Oh, please, call me Septima," she said as she laid a hand on her chest and smiled. "I'm no longer teaching at Hogwarts and...Vector was actually my late husband's name, though I still use it sometimes. And I can't help thinking of my poor old ex-mother-in-law when I hear _Mrs_. Vector. She died horribly, you know."

Holly frowned. Of course she had _no idea_ what the witch was going on about.

"Anyway," Septima went on, "I'm actually remarried; the name's Avery now. But please...it's Septima to you, Mrs. Snape."

Still frowning, Holly stared at the woman. "Septima then," she said with a polite nod, her eyes going back to Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," the green-clad witch said, nodding her agreement. "I'd like you to do the same...please call me Minerva. After all, I knew your husband for a very long time...since he was a student at Hogwarts."

Holly blinked, then shrugged. _Whatever_! "Fine then. Minerva. Septima," she said with a nod at each. "Would you care for some tea?" she offered, immediately rising. Then frowning, she said, "Do your people even _drink_ tea?"

"Of course we do, dear," Septima said with a smile. "Quite a lot of it, actually. But please...do sit down. I'll take care of it." Then, pulling out her wand, Septima Vector gave it a gentle wave and, moments later, three empty cups and a steaming pot of tea appeared on the small table between them. "Biscuit?" the witch said after tapping the table with her wand—making a plate of them appear—then slipping the wand back into a fold of her robe.

Holly shook her head. "No, thank you."

"It's a bit chilly in here," Minerva said as she tugged her robe tight, then nodded at the fireplace. "Do you mind?"

Holly shrugged, then watched the woman produce a blazing fire. Having seen her husband magic things around, Holly wasn't at all shocked by the witches' deeds, but she was still confused—why were they here?

"I suppose you're wondering why we're here?" Minerva said after taking a sip of tea. "Oh! Nettle tea. My favorite, Septima."

Septima Vector just smiled, her brown eyes twinkling.

"Umm. Yes. Since I didn't read your letters and all," Holly said. "I would like to know why you're here."

Minerva sighed. "There is the matter of Severus' estate, Mrs. Snape."

Holly frowned. "Please, call me Holly. Mrs. Snape sounds so..." She shrugged, not knowing what to say.

The two witches gave tight smiles, but nodded with understanding.

Then feeling the need to at least _try_ to explain, Holly continued. "Though I might be the mother of Severus' chil..." She paused there and swallowed hard, because she knew another woman had a child of his as well—and she wondered if _they_ knew about little Evanius, who was exactly nine months older than her twins. "And his wife, but I...I never did quite feel married. Mind you, I loved him dearly, but I...I didn't see him much, you see, and...I never met his family. Don't even know if he _had_ family."

"Severus always was a very private man, Holly," Minerva put in. "Even when he was very young. From what I know, he didn't have a very happy childhood."

"I figured as much," Holly whispered. "He refused to speak of...most anything prior to...to...," she choked.

"He _did_ love you," Septima said. "I never actually heard him say it, but...he never would have bothered with you if he didn't."

Holly's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Septima. That means the world to me." Then, with a sniffle and several blinks, Holly tried to rein in her emotions. "So, of what estate do you speak? I know Severus had a small home in Spinner's End, but I...I was only there one time," she said with a shiver at the memory of the cold, dark place her husband had once lived in. "But, as you can see, I don't really need it."

"Well, you didn't inherit _that_ hovel," said Septima with a look of disgust.

"No," Minerva said with a shake of her head, "you will not be burdened with _that_ piece of property. But there is a rather sizable account at Gringotts that he's made available to you. Of course, that means you'll have to be given access to Diagon Alley, which...isn't usually afforded to a Muggle."

Holly sighed. "I've been there before. Diagon Alley," she clarified, "not Gringotts."

"You have?" both witches said in unison.

Holly nodded. "I went there first with Severus...then later with Mr. Lupin," she admitted. Then she giggled. "Much to Severus' displeasure, I might add. Thought he was might rip off poor Remus' head when he found out." Then her eyes filled again, spilling over just as she reached for a tissue.

"That was most dangerous," Minerva said after sharing a look with Septima.

"Very much like Lupin," said Septima with a nod. "But I must say, I'm quite surprised Severus would do such a thing."

"I am as well," Minerva agreed.

"He took some poly...junk, or something...so we could go," Holly explained. "He didn't at all look himself."

"Ahh, I see. Polyjuice Potion works well," Minerva said. "He'd definitely have access to that."

Septima nodded. "He _was_ a master at Potions."

"I met Severus at the Leaky Cauldron," Holly said with a faraway look that told the two witches she was recalling the day. "I was...lost," she said, not wanting them to know she'd thought someone following her. "And Severus was coming out of the place. We ended up having a drink."

"He took you _into_ the Leaky Cauldron?" asked Minerva with dismay.

Holly nodded. "But only because I was standing there staring up at the sign." She laughed then. "You see, I'd thought I'd seen it moving...and _not_ from the wind."

Minerva frowned, glanced again at Septima, then back at Holly. "Muggles aren't supposed to even notice the Leaky Cauldron, let alone be able to enter."

Holly shrugged. "Well, _I_ saw it just fine."

Septima pursed her lips. "Humph! That's odd."

Minerva nodded. "It _is_ very strange, but...not impossible."

Holly frowned, then said, "Maybe it let me come in because I was with Severus."

"That is most likely," said Minerva. "Muggle-born witches and wizards do eventually have to enter to get to Diagon Alley...their parents with them...it's just odd that you'd even noticed the place, prior to Severus joining you out there." Pausing, Minerva's forehead pinched together. "Holly, what's your family name...if I might ask?"

Frowning, because Severus had been adamant that no one knew anything about her, Holly said, "I'm not sure _that_ matters."

"Well, it may and it may not," the older witch said. "But I'd still like to know."

Knowing she shouldn't tell, Holly bit her lower lip—but then she blurted, "Granger!"

Once again Minerva shot a look at the other witch. "That explains it, I believe."

Septima nodded.

Holly sat forward. "Why...because my cousin attends Hogwarts?"

"You know that Hermione Granger attends our school of witchcraft and wizardry?" Minerva asked, obviously shocked.

Holly nodded. "Well, yes. Severus and I figured out the connection right quick. You see, he'd...well...he'd mistakenly believed that _I_ was Hermione and...used magic in front of me. _On_ me, actually."

Both witches gasped at this, Minerva raising a hand to her mouth and shaking her head in disbelief.

"It's not like Severus to make such a heinous error," Septima murmured.

"I'm quite surprised myself, Septima," the elder witch went on. "But then, with everything that's happened, I don't know why anything surprises me anymore."

Septima nodded. "Good point."

"So, you're Hermione Granger's cousin," Minerva said with a nod. "It makes sense."

It wasn't a question, but Holly answered as if it was. "Yes, but... I think I see where you're going with this. I'm not a witch," she said with a shake of her head.

"No, no, obviously not, or you'd have received a letter too, but...I'd say there's something there."

Septima nodded. "I would have to agree, Minerva. Otherwise there's no way she'd see the Leaky Cauldron. I think that—"

"I don't mean to be rude," Holly interrupted, "but...can we get back to the reason you're here? I am...so tired."

"Oh yes, of course," Minerva began—but was cut off by a crying baby, and then a second cry joined the first.

"Damn it all!" Holly cursed. Then she sighed. "Oh well, they should have already been up. If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back." Then, without waiting for the two witches to respond, Holly turned and left the room.

**XxXxXxX**

As soon as Holly Snape was out of the room, Minerva's eyes went to Septima. "She and Severus had _twins_? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I would have, but I didn't know," Septima said. "It not like any of us had any real contact with Severus between the time we performed the Fidelius Charm and the day he was murdered."

Minerva nodded. "You are right, of course," she said with a sigh. "It's just so unfortunate."

"It's not like it changes anything. Severus left her a very generous account; they'll be provided for. Though, it doesn't appear that she needs it. Nice home, this Muggle has."

Minerva glanced around again. "Yes. Much brighter than Severus' family home. What do you suppose will come of _that_?"

"Who knows?" Septima responded, her eyes going to the ceiling—she very much wanted to see the babies. "Do you suppose they look like _him_?"

"I wouldn't be surprised, given he had black hair and eyes," Minerva said.

Septima frowned. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

"I suppose we will see soon enough."

**XxXxXxX**

Leaving the two witches downstairs, Holly went quickly to her crying children. In the same crib—because they refused to sleep unless they were together—Hunter and Savannah both sat up, tiny tears coursing down their little cheeks.

"Ah, sweeties," Holly cooed as she lowed the side of the crib to change their soiled diapers. "Let's get you into something dry."

Moving fast, because her children didn't tolerate being wet long, Holly changed them with haste, then kissed their little tummies before snapping up their jammies. After they were dry, Holly ran a comb through their hair, then lifted them up, settling one on each hip. "Come now, there are some...friends of your daddy that I think you should meet."

Turning, Holly carried her babies downstairs, suddenly nervous when she entered her own living space. What did she _really_ know of these people anyway? It was because of _their world_ that she no longer had a husband...that her son and daughter no longer had a father...and she didn't much like it.

But when she saw their faces melt at the sight of her children...Severus' children...Holly couldn't be angry with them. After all, neither of these women had killed the man.

"This is Hunter Severus Snape," she said proudly as she handed the child off to Septima Vector, smiling when the woman grinned and tickled her son, making him giggle with delight. "And _this_, is Savannah Dawn Snape," she went on, doing the same with her daughter, but handing her to Minerva instead.

The elder witch's eyes widened with delight—and unexpected surprise. "They look..._just like_ him."

Holly chuckled. "That they do," she agreed, suddenly realizing that she'd always have a part of the man she loved.

* * *

*** Note to self** (everyone really)...WTF is it with the typos and shite! Okay...so...NOTHING should be underlined in this chapter and yet...I keep finding words that are. I am _soooooooooooo_ friggin' frustrated with reading and rereading and missing stuff! If you people find silly mistakes, PLEASE send me a PM to let me know (or just post it in the "review" section)...I clearly need help! *deep breath*/*sigh*


	9. Somewhere VERY Near Spinner's End

**Author's Note**

After reading this, **Chapter Nine**, if anyone's interested in the "family tree," please PM me your email address and I'll send it to you.

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**Word Count:** 2,511 words

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**Somewhere VERY Near Spinner's End** (still May 1998)

After recasting the Anti-Apparation spell—at Holly's insistence—and then leaving the young widow and her babies by way of the front door—the Anti-Disapparation Jinx was up in full force, so they couldn't just Disapparate from inside her house—Minerva McGonagall and Septima Vector-Avery stood outside for a moment. Because Holly'd repeated something they very well knew..._Muggles rarely see anything they don't _want_ to see_, the two witches decided they'd just Disapparate from her very prettily-groomed front yard—providing, of course, that there weren't an visible Muggles. But first, they spoke a few words.

"Are you absolutely certain I can't convince you to return to Hogwarts, Septima?" the elder of the two witches said. With so many losses in the war, she knew it would be difficult to replace the teachers they'd lost—either to deaths or resignations—and Minerva would _love_ to have the tried and true Arithmancy professor back. "A bribe perhaps?"

Septima chuckled, then sighed. She'd resigned her post at Hogwarts not yet quite two years ago—in August of 1996—and wasn't, in any way, shape, or form, ready to return. Her reasons at the time were _of a personal nature_ and she'd left it at that—though she wasn't delusional enough to think they'd _stay_ personal for long...at least not more than another ten years—unless she chose to leave the country and set up somewhere else, which was quite unlikely now that she'd married and was expecting so soon—and unexpectedly.

Patting her stomach, Septima shook her head. "I'm sorry, Minerva, but I really can't...I promised Cyrus that I'd stay home with the baby."

Minerva nodded. She'd known what the other witch's response would be—after all, _most_ new mothers wanted to be home with their newborns...at least when they were new. But there was more to it than that. Septima's husband, Cyrus Avery, was the first-born son of a well-known family of Death Eaters—though he himself had managed to stay out of it by going into hiding at a young age—and he wanted a more hands-on family, which meant no help from their house-elves where their children were concerned. He himself had been almost entirely raised by his family's house-elf, because his parents were so cold and distant, and _he_ wanted his wife home, caring personally for their children—however many that may be. And Septima wanted that too—to physically raise her own children _and_ to make her husband happy. Septima had loved her position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but she loved her husband more—and very much wanted to show her whole-hearted support for her husband of just over a year and the man that he was; he was a man who'd resisted his family's influence where the Dark Lord was concerned and she adored him for it—among other things.

His younger brother, however, hadn't faired so well—not that he'd wanted to. Though the younger Avery brother had once managed to worm his way out of trouble by saying he'd acted under the Imperius Curse—receiving extreme punishment...the Cruciatus Curse...from the Dark Lord for doing so, or so they'd heard—he was now rotting away in Azkaban Prison with their father. And their mother, Matera Sylvanus Avery, who was actually a cousin of Septima's father, had escaped such punishment, as she'd managed to convince the magical community that she'd spent all those years cowering in fear of her Death Eater husband—and youngest son—and had never been a part of their evil-doings. There were plenty of witches and wizards who didn't believe her, but, since she'd received a not-guilty verdict at her trial, just over a week ago, she was free. Or semi-free, anyway—she was currently on house-arrest.

But now that the war was over, and he too had managed to prove he'd had no part in anything Lord Voldemort-related, Cyrus was living out in the open, free of fear that he'd be tracked down and forcibly inducted into the evilness that so many of his family members had been involved in. He'd had to renounce his father and brother—not a huge loss, being as he'd loathed them anyway—and swear to report anything suspicious, should further dark activity occur. But again, that wasn't a problem; all Cyrus Avery _wanted_ to do was live peacefully, working at his job for the Ministry and taking care of his already wealthy wife and their children—instead of living under her roof in fear that they'd be found out. The only thing he'd asked of Septima was that she stay home to care for the children—and watch over his mother, who now lived with them. Not minding, Septima had agreed. There was nothing she wanted more than to do this. After _years_ of separation Cyrus had walked back into her life—by complete chance—the day she'd gone into labor, and he'd been there ever since. In secret, they'd married almost right away and he'd promised to accept and love her new babies as though they were his own—in fact, he'd adopted them so there'd be no questions...for the time-being, anyway—he too wasn't under the delusion that their secret could be kept indefinitely. At just over a year old, Septima's children bore an uncanny resemblance to the man who was _actually_ their father. But they'd decided to maintain the farce as long as was possible. It was insanity really, but they were doing it anyway.

Sighing, Minerva said, "I thought as much. I had to try though. Heaven knows we need some decent additions to the teaching staff."

Septima smiled. "Maybe when she's ready to attend Hogwarts, I'll be ready to return to work," she said with another pat on her belly.

Minerva's eyes went from the woman's stomach to her rich brown eyes. "_She_?"

Septima nodded. "We visited St. Mungo's yesterday. The witch there was quite certain."

"Well, congratulations," said Minerva. "Have you chosen a name?"

"We're naming her Cydrella Sylvanus Avery. It's a family name...Cydrella, I mean. My mother's name was Sidrella and she was named after Cedrella, _her_ father's favorite cousin. Both were of the ancient house of Black, and both were blasted off the family tree, Marius for being a Squib and Cedrella for marrying a Weasley...the very Weasley that _I'm_ named for, Septimus Weasley.

Minerva chuckled. "I see," she said as she tried to figure out the connections—it was nearly impossible without looking at a family tree. "Shall we go back to the Leaky Cauldron for a glass of wine then?" she finally said.

"Actually, I have somewhere else to be, so I'll have to let you go it alone."

Minerva pursed her lips, but nodded. "All right then," she said—then Disapparated.

And sighing, Septima did the same.

**XxXxXxX**

Coming from Holly Snape's very cheery, flora-filled front yard, Septima blinked when she Apparated onto a narrow stoop that was anything but. Though still quite a few hours of daylight left—it was just three o'clock in the afternoon—the neighborhood she'd Apparated into was quite dark and dearly—and virtually deserted. Wrinkling her nose at the foul smell—likely the mucky nearby river—Septima glanced down at the rubbish-strew cobbled street, then up into the distance. Seeing the very tall, thin chimney of a no-longer open mill towering over the filthy brick "two-up-and-two-down" style terraced houses, many of them with boarded-up windows—and catching the nauseating stench of the river again—she wondered why Severus continued to reside here when he'd obviously had the means to move elsewhere. Shuddering, she turned toward the tiny house, which, though the outside was quite dark, had a slight glow in the curtain-covered window, and, reaching up, took the knocker in hand and clunked it against the wooden door. Then, hearing scurrying inside, she took a step backward and waited.

It didn't take long for the door to creak open and Septima was surprised by what she saw. A small, very tired-looking blonde, with a toddler attached to her hip, stood there staring at her.

"State your business," she said bluntly.

For a moment, Septima thought she might have the wrong house, but seeing the much too familiar black hair and eyes of the toddler, she quickly assessed that she was in fact in the right place. "You are Raveena Salvatore?"

The woman stared at her for a moment, then nodded.

"I am...Mrs. Avery," she said carefully, not sure she wanted the woman to know her first name. "You should have received an owl notifying you that someone would be visiting."

At this Raveena blinked, then nodded, then took a step backward. "Well, come in then," she said as she turned and walked away.

Septima watched the woman's retreat for a moment, then stepped through the doorway, closed the door behind her, and glanced around the small living space. The inside of the house was somewhat more pleasant than the outside—not by much—but at least it smelled better.

"So, what do you want?" the woman asked without preamble. She'd plopped her son down in a barred playpen, handed him a toy, then stood up to glare at Septima.

Expecting to be offered some tea, or at the very least a seat, Septima frowned. The idea of Severus getting himself involved with this...this _woman_, was somewhat revolting. And the idea that her own children were related to Raveena's son made her stomach turn. But, what could she do? _I'm not here to judge_, she told herself as she tired to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"You are aware that the Dark Lord has fallen?" Septima queried.

Frowning, Raveena gave a tight nod. "I do not have much contact with the wizarding world...as I am a Squib," she admitted reluctantly. Then, with some venom, she went on, "But I think you already _know_ that, don't you?"

"I do," Septima admitted.

"Well, I'm not _that much_ of a dunderhead!" Raveena bit out. "I'm quite aware that _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ is...gone. Thank Merlin," she added.

"You have seen then, the list of deaths in the _Daily Prophet_?" Septima asked.

Cocking her head, Raveena frowned, then glanced over at papers she'd let pile up by her fireplace. "Umm...no. I suppose I missed that," she said. Then her frown deepened. "Has...has something happened to one of my brothers?" She really only half-cared if something had happened to any one of them, as none of them gave a rat's ass about her—their poor magicless sister. She was lucky she'd received anything when an aunt of hers passed a few years back; the crazy old bat's will had specified that she was to receive this small property in the old neighborhood, otherwise she and Evanius would have been left penniless. But things were difficult and she'd secretly hoped that, should one of her brothers pass, she would inherit whatever it was that he'd owned. She'd once had four brothers; now she had three—had one of them died? she wondered.

"Ahh...no...not that I am aware," Septima said, thinking the woman looked only somewhat relieved. Glancing at the toddler—Severus' son, she reminded herself—who sat in the barred playpen not far away, then back at the blonde woman, Septima said, "May I sit down?"

As if realizing her rudeness, Raveena nodded dumbly, then frowned at the mess on the chair. Clearing it off the chair, she sat down on the sofa across from it.

Taking a very broken-in armchair, Septima perched herself on the edge and studied the younger woman. "I'm sorry I'm the one who has to tell you this, but...Mr. Snape...he was killed in the war."

Raveena's eyes flashed first with confusion, and then with fury—then she got up and went to her son. Quickly swinging him into her arms, she turned and faced the witch. "And...why would you think _I'd_ care about that...greasy git?" she asked.

Septima frowned. "Because, you are the mother of his son."

Raveena snorted. "What makes you think Evanius is Severus' son?"

Septima leveled a look at the Squib.

"All right. _Fine_! He's his son," Raveena admitted. "What of it?"

Septima forced a smile, because, though the woman herself was dreadful—possibly only due to upbringing—her son was _still_ an innocent, and a brother to her own children. "May I hold him?" she asked.

Raveena's gray eyes stared emptily—then she shrugged and extended the child.

Unsure, Septima reached out to take the boy-child. Not an hour earlier she'd been holding a similar child and marveled at the resemblance to that child—and to her own son. "He's beautiful," she breathed. Then, not able to help herself, she pressed her lips to the boy's chubby cheek and inhaled his clean baby sent.

Raveena grinned proudly at this—but quickly hardened her heart. "_Unfortunately_ he looks just like his father," she complained.

Septima eyes narrowed with worry, hoping the younger woman wouldn't do anything to harm the child—and the woman seemed to sense her worry.

"You don't have to fret," Raveena reassured her as she quickly confiscated the boy. "Though I _very much_ despise...despised...Evanius' father, I _adore_ my son."

Septima watched as Raveena kissed the top of her son's head and hugged him to her breast. "I can see that."

Raveena pursed her lips. "So...why are you here?"

Nodding, Septima reached into her robes and pulled out an envelope. "This is for you," she said as she extended it to the other woman.

Frowning, Raveena returned her son to the playpen, then tentatively took the letter. Opening it, she read carefully, the creases in her forehead deepening. "He's left _me_ his house on Spinner's End?"

Septima shrugged. "Well yes."

"But...I already _have_ a house here," she said, her voice filled with disgust. Though she knew inheriting her mother's house had saved her, she'd never liked the area. The only good thing was living near Severus Snape, the man she'd obsessed about for as long as she could remember, but now he too was out of reach—permanently—and she hated him for it.

Septima glanced around. "Yes. I can see that, but...you could sell Mr. Snape's home and have some money to...refurbish this one," she suggested. "Or, you could sell both places and..move to a more desirable neighborhood."

Raveena's eyes narrowed at the obvious insult, before she forced herself to relax—both ideas had merit. "No actual money though?"

Septima shook her head. "I'm afraid not; not at this time."

Raveena sighed; she'd not caught the, _not at this time_. "Well, I suppose I should thank you," she said—but didn't actually thank the witch. Shoving the letter Septima had given her into its envelope, Raveena dropped it on a paper-covered table and strode to the front door.

Septima watched the Squib open her door and knew she'd worn out her welcome. Standing, she went first to the toddler in his pen, knelt to kiss his head, then turned and exited Raveena Salvatore's tiny home, thankful she'd not have to ever return. And, just before she Apparated to her own home and family, Septima heard the door behind her slam closed.


	10. Hermione Jean Weasley

**Author's Note**

Well, finally getting to where I want to be with this—and that's to Severus' children attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—almost! *grin*

Sorry to those who want to read about the characters of the actual books...I'm trying to slip them in here and there...but, like I said, this isn't really their story this time.

Again, if anyone is interested in my "family tree" document, I'll gladly email it to you (though I do keep changing it around, names, dates, etc..., as I learn new things).

Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Word Count: **3,803

* * *

**Hermione Jean Weasley** (August 2008)

Hermione Jean Weasley stared blankly across her kitchen table at Minerva McGonagall. Ron was over at the Burrow visiting his parents—and quite likely Harry and Ginny Potter as well—and she'd just put two-year-old Rose down for a nap, and she'd been _hoping_ to catch one herself. Sliding her hand over her bourgeoning belly—she still had a two weeks before she was due, but she felt like she was ready to pop—she raised a brow.

"Come again?"

"Your cousin, Holly, is residing in America and—"

Hermione held up her hand. "I got that part," she interrupted. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, Headmistress, but...you say her _children_ have received letters from Hogwarts?"

Minerva pursed her lips, then nodded. "Yes, that is correct."

Hermione laughed. "That's impossible, because...my cousin Holly doesn't _have_ any children."

"Well, that's where you're wrong, Mrs. Weasley. She, in fact, has _two_ children. Twins. A boy and a girl, who were born on the thirty-first of July in 1997."

At this, Hermione blinked—then she stood up, rubbed the small of her back, and turned toward her Muggle stove. "Tea?"

"I would_ love_ some," the older witch said as she watched the younger woman scurry around—keeping herself busy so that she could think about what she'd just been told.

"I realize this is a shock, Mrs. Weasley, but—"

"Hermione, Headmistress," Hermione cut in. "There are far too many Mrs. Weasleys running around."

The older witch smiled. "Yes, and please do call me Minerva. It's silly to be so formal. I've known you far too long."

Hermione nodded. It would feel strange, but, after all the years, she had to admit the other woman was right. "I don't understand...Minerva. Why is this the first mention of this?"

"Well, it's quite the long story, actually. In short, Holly got herself involved with...a wizard, wound up pregnant and married."

Hermione frowned. "In that order?"

Minerva nodded.

"I see." Biting her lip, Hermione continued to frown—then she shook her head. "No wait. I _still_ don't understand. She's my _cousin_. My parents never mentioned anything about her marrying and having children, or moving to America for that matter. I mean, I've hardly seen her and her parents over the years, because they travel so much, but...Uncle Henry and Aunt Elizabeth visited Muggle London two Christmases ago and they suppered with us _twice_. They never _once_ mentioned Holly's children. Or _Holly_, come to think of it." And, she'd not asked after her either, which was _quite_ strange.

Minerva nodded. "I'm not surprised. Holly's parents don't know the particulars about her marriage."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "How is that possible? My aunt and uncle aren't at all stupid and...there's no way I could have kept this life from _my_ parents."

"It's slightly different in this case, Hermione. You yourself received a letter from Hogwarts, but Holly did not. She has no magical abilities...that we know of. Her husband, however, did."

Hermione's brow shot up again. "_Did_?"

Minerva nodded. "He was killed in the war."

"Oh!"

For a moment, Hermione just sat there, her mind going over the list of casualties of the war. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out who her cousin might have been married to. "Might I have his name?"

Minerva sighed. "I'm afraid not."

"Why not?"

"We have been sworn to secrecy."

"We?"

"Yes," Minerva said with an uncomfortable nod. "There were five of us to begin with. Now there are only two. Three of us were killed in the war."

"And yet you are here telling me about...all of this," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "I'm afraid I'm _very_ confused."

"As am I," the older witch agreed. "You see, her...husband, put her London home under the Fidelius Charm and therefore, as one of those present that day, I am unable to disclose any information."

Hermione frowned again, her mind going to Holly's London house. She hadn't thought about it in..._years_, and...couldn't seem to remember exactly where it was, actually, now that she thought about it. She could see, in her mind's eye, the house, inside and out, but she couldn't remember where it was—now she knew why. "Of course, the _Fidelius_ Charm!" But she _still_ didn't understand.

"Does she...know about me?" Hermione whispered, suddenly feeling even more curious.

Minerva gave a clipped nod.

"Then...why wouldn't she contact _me_? It seems I'm the one person she could have turned to."

"She was terrified, dear. I'm sure you remember how dark a time it was."

Hermione shuddered, then nodded, her eyes slightly glazed. The running. The fear. The _physical_ pain. And later the heartbreak of losing so many. Remembering still hurt.

"She discovered our world," Minerva went on, "became pregnant, and got married, then lost her husband, all in a space of about eighteen months. Can you imagine?"

Shaking her head, Hermione sighed. She felt somewhat numb. "So, what is it that you want from me?"

"We need you to go to her," Minerva said. "Several owls have been sent and...they've been ignored. I suspect she's terrified again. I dare not send Hagrid, like Dumbledore did with Mr. Potter."

Hermione giggled at this. "No, best not send Hagrid. America, you say?"

Minerva nodded. "A town called, Newbury Park. It's on the west coast in Southern California."

"And, how am I to get there? I'm afraid my Apparating skills are a bit...off, right now. I had no trouble Apparating when I was pregnant with Rose, but..._this one_," she said with a pat on her belly, "doesn't seem to like it much. Ron's worried he might be a Squib."

Minerva waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I highly doubt that. I've known several witches who've experienced that and not one of them has had a Squib," she said. "Just between us, I think that happens when there's too much inbreeding."

Frowning slightly, Hermione nodded her understanding. It made sense to her that inbreeding caused problems—it definitely did in the Muggle world, but she'd not considered it in the magical community. The pure-bloods who consciously restricted themselves to only pure-blood marriages didn't have many choices—there were very few pure-blood families left—and so sometimes there were problems.

"The same thing happens with Muggles," Hermione said. "Not the Squib thing obviously, but other problems. It's called inbreeding depression, I believe. Could be why the relative size of pure-blood families is less; one of the results of inbreeding depression is reduced fertility.

"Humph. Interesting," Minerva said, her already beady eyes narrowed even further.

"Increased genetic disorders and loss of immune system function could result, among other things," Hermione continued, "but natural selection tends to remove individuals who...share bloodlines."

"That's fascinating!" Minerva said with a smile. "You really are a very bright young woman, Hermione."

"Thank you."

"Where ever did you learn this?"

Hermione shrugged. "My parents are dentists; the sciences were big in our home."

Minerva nodded. "I see."

Then, reaching into a fold of her robe and pulling out the most gaudy necklace Hermione had ever set eyes upon, Minerva went on. "I've brought you a portkey. It will work twice. Once to get you there and once to bring you back. Put it on to travel there, then take it off when you're ready to return. As soon as you put it down, you'll come back, and it will be rendered a useless piece of Muggle jewelry."

Hermione nodded her understanding.

"But don't put it on until you're ready to go," Minerva warned, "because you'll be transported immediately."

Hermione nodded again. "All right."

"And, as difficult as this will be," Minerva said with a frown, "I'll need you to keep this to yourself."

"I can't tell Ron?"

"I'm afraid not. It will because clear when you see the children, but even then I need you to...mind your tongue. Unless, of course, you can get Holly to agree to less secrecy. I'm afraid her husband scared the devil out of her...and we weren't much help."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to ask more questions—typical Hermione.

"And, before you get it in your head that her husband harmed her in any way, let me just tell you that he did not. The man loved her deeply, but...circumstances being what they were, he couldn't do any better for her. Financially, she's been well-cared for; he left her quite the hefty account at Gringotts, though I dare say I've heard she transfers a significant amount to another accounts every month."

"Well, that's good to know, I suppose...about the money," Hermione clarified. "When should I go?"

Minerva shrugged. "As soon as possible, if it's all right with you. I've brought the children's Hogwarts letters for you to hand-deliver," she said as she pulled out a single envelope and placed it on the table.

Glancing down at the envelope, Hermione frowned—it didn't seem to be addressed; it just said, 'Holly' on the front—she'd been hoping to get a glimpse of a last name.

"It's that way for the sake of Holly's privacy," said Minerva as she got to her feet. "The portkey will take you directly to her back yard. And, I imagine that she's expecting _someone_, but she'll be surprised that it's you."

Hermione nodded—then glanced toward the living room when the fireplace burst brightly with green flames indicating that someone was flooing in.

"Everything 'kay, Hermione," Ron asked. He was out of breath, as if he'd run all the way home from the Burrow. "Hello, Professor McGonagall," he said when he noticed the older woman there.

Minerva nodded. "Mr. Weasley." Then to Hermione she said, "I'll leave you to explain...but remember what I told you."

Hermione nodded.

"Good day, Mr. Weasley," Minerva said—then Disapparated.

Ron blinked, then turned to his wife. "What the _hell_ was that about? Harry and I were in the middle of a game of Wizard's Chess and an owl came telling me I was needed at home. I thought maybe you'd gone into labor early, or that Rose was hurt, or that—"

"No, Ronald, Rose is fine and...it's _not_ labor," Hermione said, one hand on her belly, the other on her lower back.

Sighing, Ron wrapped his arms around his wife and squeezed her lovingly. "Oh, good. I'm going back then."

"Umm. No. I need you to stay."

"What!" he nearly shrieked.

"No need to get so upset, Ronald," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Minerva just came to...offer me a job."

"McGonagall wants you to teach at Hogwarts?" he asked with surprise.

"Don't look so shocked, Ronald! I'd be a _great_ professor at Hogwarts, but...that's not what she wants me to do."

Ron frowned. "Well, what is it then?"

"I...umm...can't say," Hermione said, then bit her lip. "Minerva asked me not to."

"Minerva? Since when are you on a first name basis with McGonagall?"

"Since...today, actually," Hermione confessed. "Look, she's asked me to do something and to keep it quiet...for now."

"She's got you keeping secrets?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Is it dangerous?"

Hermione shook her head.

Sighing his relief, Ron dropped into a chair. "All right. Is there _anything_ you can tell me?" he queried as he threw his arms up in the air.

Hermione shrugged. "I have to go, by portkey," she said as she reached for the envelope and necklace still sitting on the table, "to the United States, to hand-deliver this letter." Stuffing the envelope in a pocket, she crossed the room, snatched her robe from a peg on the wall, and flipped it over her shoulders, then turned to face her husband. "I shouldn't be gone too long, but if I'm not going to be back by...let's say, breakfast, then I'll call you on the phone."

Ron frowned. He hated the Muggle phone that she'd had installed on the kitchen wall. "Breakfast..._tomorrow_?"

"Obviously."

"I don't like it," he said with a shake of his red head. "Maybe...maybe Harry and I should go instead, and you and Ginny can stay home with the kids. You'd like that right...if Ginny and the kids came over for the night? Or...you and Rose could stay at the Burrow with mum and dad? I'll go floo them now," he said, on his feet and heading to the fireplace.

Hermione rolled her eyes again, then physically stopped her husband from leaving the room. "Yes, I _would_ love a nice long visit with Ginny and the kids, or a night with your parents, but...Minerva didn't ask for _you and Harry_ to do this job. She asked me to do it."

"Can't the woman see that you're pregnant?" he all but whined.

"That's pretty obvious, Ronald, but...it's not dangerous, I promise you," she said as she leaned down and kissed her husband. "Now, I'll call you if I'm going to be late." Then pulling out the necklace she said, "I love you, Ron," then dropped it over her head and disappeared.

"Oh bugger!"

**XxXxXxX**

Holly stared at the growing pile of Hogwarts letters that she'd intercepted and stashed so that Hunter and Savvy wouldn't see them—not yet anyway. Before she could let _them_ see the letters—and find out about their father—she needed to figure out what she was going to do. The thought of sending them away to school was...devastating. And, she had to admit that she'd worried about this happening—them inheriting their father's magical abilities—so she'd even gone so far as to take them to someone who'd claimed he could bind their powers. Obviously it hadn't worked. For the most part it had; they'd shown no signs of magical abilities, but obviously the power was still there, even if it was latent. How was she going to explain this to her parents? They'd just never understand—not that she'd seen them much lately; they were off on an around the world cruise.

Sighing, she glanced at the clock up on the wall. Both Hunter and Savvy had stayed at friends' houses, but they had a baseball game—they'd joined a summer league—this morning and it was her turn to take them, along with a few of the other boys.

And then she heard a light tapping on the door that led to her small backyard. Thinking it was just the adjacent neighbor, coming to borrow some sugar, Holly immediately got up and opened the door—then frowned at what she saw.

"_Hermione_!" she whispered in astonishment.

"Hi cousin. It's been a while, huh?" the younger woman said with a grin as she stepped over the threshold with a flourish and folded her into an embrace.

Holly hugged her back, then backed off. Her blue-green eyes went to the Hogwarts letters on the table, then back to her cousin. "Umm. What...what brings you here...to the United States? How did you find me?" Nervously, she circled the table, then picked up something on a shelf and shoved it into a drawer.

Ignoring her cousin's movement—and the Muggle photograph she'd hidden—Hermione smiled, then slipped out of her robe, making sure to not dislodge the ugly portkey necklace, and draped it over a chair. "Are you in hiding or something?"

"Ahh. No. Not particularly. It's just..." She let her voice trail off, because she didn't know what to say.

"I received a very interesting visit today...from a Minerva McGonagall," Hermione said, studying her cousin. "I see that you recognize the name."

Holly nodded, her eyes going around the room.

"And, how is it that you know Minerva?"

"Umm. She came to my house in London...to help me...about ten years ago."

"During the war?" Hermione asked.

Holly started. Then sighing, because she realized Hermione knew at least _something_ about what had gone on with her, she slumped into a chair. "Yes, Hermione, d-during the war."

"You could have called me," Hermione said as she too dropped into a chair.

"I was...scared. Sev...my husband thought it best that I hide. And then he...was killed."

Hermione blinked. Something made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, but she didn't know quite what it was. "And so, you're still hiding? Ten years later?"

Holly shrugged. "Not really, but..."

"But the Dark Lord has been defeated. He's gone now. You don't have to hide."

"Yes, that's what they told me, but..." She shrugged.

Hermione's eyes went to the papers on the table. "Minerva said she'd sent letters. May I?" she asked curiously, her hand moving to pick up a letter.

But she didn't have a chance to pick one up because Holly's hand shot out and slammed down on top of them. "I...I haven't shown them to the kids yet, so...I'd rather you didn't."

Hermione frowned. She was dying to find out what name was on the envelopes, but pulled her hand back.

And then the front door opened and slammed shut again.

"Mom, we're home!" a boy called out from the entry hall. "I'm gonna shower!"

Holly's eyes went wide with terror. "All right, Hunt," she called out, then plastered a smile on her face when a black-haired girl walked into the room.

"Hey mom," the girl said, then eyed the stranger somewhat warily—her mother almost never had anyone over. "Hi."

Hermione grinned. "Hi there."

"Ahh, mom. I'm gonna go change into my uniform. I showered at Claire's house."

"All right, darling. Sounds good," Holly said, trying desperately to keep her voice level. But when her daughter didn't actually go, Holly decided she'd better introduce her to the woman. "Umm, Savannah, this is...my cousin, Hermione."

"Oh. Well, hello then, cousin Hermione," Savannah said as she reached out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Hermione watched the somewhat tanned, black-haired, black-eyed girl turn and leave. She was absolutely beautiful, stunning actually, but...something was too familiar about her. If only Holly would let her see one of the letters. "So, I brought you another letter...from Minerva," she said as she fished it out and pushed it across the table.

Holly blanched. She didn't want another letter, but slowly reached out and picked it up—thankfully, it had just her first name on the front. "Thank you," she mumbled as she placed it with the others.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Hermione asked.

"It's just another one, isn't it?"

Hermione shrugged. "Minerva wanted to make sure you got it."

"I don't...I don't want them to go," Holly whispered. "Your world killed my husband," she accused. "I can't lose them too."

"It's not like that, Holly, I promise you. The Dark Lord is _gone_."

Holly bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes. "It was _awful_, Hermione. I was alone most of the time. I didn't know what was happening. And then they came and told me that...that he was dead. I had so little time with him." She let out a sob, then melted into her cousin's arms. "And my children never got to know him. That's the worst part; he was so wonderful and they'll never know it."

"I know," Hermione said. "I mean, I don't know what it was like for you, but...I fought in the battle. I was...held prisoner and tortured." She shuddered at the vivid memory of Bellatrix Lestrange using the Cruciatus Curse on her. "Trust me, I know how awful it was. I lost friends...family." Her voice hitching on the words as her mind went to the Lupins and then Fred Weasley.

Holly sniffled. "And still you expect me to send my children there...to your horrid school of witchcraft? You'll send your son or daughter there?" she asked with a gesture at Hermione's obviously pregnant tummy.

Hermione smiled through tears of her own. "You can't keep them from their future, Holly. If they've received letters, then they belong there. And yes, when this one here," she said with a pat on her belly, "and the one we already have at home are ready, they will be going to Hogwarts. It's different now than it used to be, but...there's always danger out there, Holly...not just at Hogwarts."

Holly knew that. She'd seen some pretty strange things while raising her children. American society was...different. The places. The people. The way they spoke. The way they acted. It had taken some getting used to. But she'd done it and now felt at home. And now she was being asked to send her children away to some strange school—and she didn't like it.

"Hey mom! Sav says we have company," a boy with shoulder-length black hair said from the doorway.

"Ahh. Yes, Hunter," Holly said as she tried to hide her tears. "This is my cousin, Hermione. She's here from London. Hermione, this is my son Hunter."

For a second, Hermione just stared at the eleven year old boy—a slight shiver going through her—then she seemed to recover. "Hello, Hunter."

"Hey," he said in greeting, his black eyes glittering—then he looked at his mother. "Our bags in the car?"

Holly nodded. "I think your gloves are on the credenza though...which is _not_ where they belong."

Hunter blushed. "Oops. Sorry."

"Yeah. Uh-ha. And your muddy cleats are on the back stoop. Please do try to bang those out, I don't want mud tracked through my house."

The boy grinned sheepishly, then started across the kitchen to the back door.

"And, don't you dare put those on in my house," Holly warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it, mom," he said, rolling his eyes. Opening the door, he picked up his shoes, then left the two women alone.

Hermione was still staring. Then quickly, so that Holly couldn't stop her, she snatched an envelope from the pile and turned it so she could read it.

Mr. H. Snape

232 Asta Avenue

Newbury Park, California 91320

"_Snape_?" she whispered, her nose wrinkling up. "You were married to Professor _Snape_?"

Holly bit her lip again, then nodded.

"_Eww_."

Holly chuckled at this. "He did mention that you hated him."

Hermione rolled her eyes—which reminded Holly of her own children. "I don't hate anyone."

Holly grinned. "That's what _I_ told him."

"Mom. You coming?" Savannah Snape said from the doorway. "Hunter's in the car and we need to pick up Patrick, Alex, and Nick in fifteen...and I dare say, if you don't hurry, he'll start the car and back it out again, and we _don't_ want that!"

"Oh yes. Of course. Too right you are." Standing quickly, Holly glanced at her cousin. "Care to come to a baseball game with us."

Shrugging, Hermione stood up. She'd never been into sports, aside from watching Quidditch now and again, but she'd really like to catch up with her cousin, and she needed to persuade her to allow her the twins to attend Hogwarts. "Right then, let's go."

* * *

**Post Script**

Just in case anyone's wondering...the address I used in Newbury Park (a RL city/town), California is the house in which I grew up. *grin* I don't, however, live there now.**  
**


	11. America's Favorite Pastime

**Author's Note**

Hey all...here's the next bit. Actually...the _next_ one after this is "finished" too...finished, as in written, but not proofread. I'll get that up soon, I promise...not that anyone cares. :p

So...if anyone doesn't get baseball...sorry. I spent many a year coaching Little League baseball and fast pitch softball and keeping score for many of those teams...and I just love it! Sorry if you don't.

* * *

**Word Count: **2,654

* * *

**America's Favorite Pastime** (same day, August 2008)

Sitting quietly in her cousin's midnight blue minivan, hands clasped on her belly, Hermione watched the scenery pass. They drove down Holly's steep residential street, then turned onto an only slightly more busy street, which wound its way through wealthy housing—some of the homes enormous in size—then into a more modest neighborhood before coming to a stop in front of three boys.

"Hey, Mrs. Snape," the three said in unison as they climbed in—after tossing several large bags in the far back.

"Hi boys," Holly greeted, then made introductions. "This is my cousin, Hermione. She's visiting from England."

Hermione gave them a wave and smiled as they all spoke at once, but her thoughts were on what the boys had called Holly—_Mrs. Snape_—it was too weird.

"England? Cool! Say something so we can hear your accent," one of the boys said.

He received an elbow from Savannah and, from behind, Hunter's glove came smashing down on the boy's head. "You're such an idiot, Patrick!" Hunter said.

"_What_?" the boy said. "I just wanted to hear her talk. What's wrong with that?"

"You hear our mom all the time, doofus," said Savvy. "They sound just the same."

In the front seat Holly and Hermione exchanged a look, then both laughed...causing a look to pass between the twins—they weren't used to their mother laughing much; this was refreshing. In fact, the other three boys noticed it as well.

"No, no, that's quite all right, Hunter...Savannah," Hermione said. "I don't mind."

Another boy snickered. "Yeah, _Savannah_, of course she doesn't mind."

Frowning, because she didn't like being called by her entire first name—except by her mother, and only because she didn't have a choice—Savvy turned to the boy and growled, "Better watch it _Alexander_, or you might find that not even your cup will protect you."

Three of the boys laughed—but not Alex.

"Hey, hey," Holly cut in. "Enough of that talk, young lady."

Seeing her mother's blue-green eyes flashing at her in the rearview mirror, Savvy blushed. "Sorry mom." Then she glared at the boy. "Be expecting a few more short hops than you'd like, _Alexander_!" she threatened, knowing her friend hated them.

"Bring it!" the boy taunted bravely—or stupidly, depending on how one looked at it.

"Whoa!" Hunter cut in, his thoughts clearly on the side of _stupidly_. "We're all on the same team, remember?"

"Right. Like I could forget," Savvy said—then started messing with her long ponytail. "Mom, you have a Scrunchie? This one's shite."

Rolling her eyes and, meaning to scold, Holly reached for the glove box and pulled out a hair band. "Sorry, just have this, darling," she said as she tossed it over her shoulder to her daughter, deciding to ignore her daughter's curse.

Smiling, Savvy caught it. Then, pulling the old one out, she raked her fingers though her long onyx hair and twisted the new one into it, then slapped a cap on her head and yanked her ponytail through the hole in the back. "I sure hope we get a better team next year...I hate green!"

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Leave it to a girl to only be concerned about uniform color."

Next to him, Alex snickered, but the other boy, Nick, snorted. "Doesn't _play_ like a girl. Uh-ah!"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Savvy quipped, flashing her dazzling grin.

All the boys—including Hunter—nodded their agreement with Nick's statement. Savannah Dawn Snape absolutely did _not_ play baseball like any girl _they_ knew.

Smiling across the front seat at her cousin, Holly maneuvered the vehicle onto what she'd called a freeway, then wove her way through the lanes—in a manner reminiscent of someone flying around a Quidditch pitch chasing a snitch—passing several exits. Then, apparently arriving at the correct one, she exited, made a few quick turns, then barreled into parking lot.

"They're playing in a summer league in Thousand Oaks, because we didn't have enough kids join to play at home. It's a bit further away, but most of the games involve some traveling," she explained to Hermione as she pulled into a parking space and killed the ignition. "Here we are," she said, as if it wasn't obvious.

Grabbing their bags, the five kids ran off toward a large grassy field...the women following more slowly. Holly had grabbed a bag as well, explaining that she usually kept score.

**XxXxXxX**

"Fascinating game, baseball," Hermione said as she watched the kids throw and catch and hit and run. "Similar to Cricket, yet...not. Do you remember when our dad's played Cricket in the park?"

Holly nodded. "Of course. I'm surprised you do though...you were a bit young."

Hermione smiled. "I remember it well. This is a little different, but interesting all the same."

"Some people think not much is going on in baseball, but scorekeeping has taught me that that's not true _at all_," Holly said with a huge roll of her eyes as she watched the next play, then made a few marks in her book. "The game's extremely detailed...and very strategic."

Hermione only responded with, "Hmm," until she glanced down at the book Holly'd been scribbling in. "What's _that_ mean?" she asked, pointing at where her cousin had written 'E-3' in the book.

"It means our first baseman, Alex, made an error," Holly explained. "Though, part of me wants to give the error to Savannah, for short-hopping the ball to him. That means she bounced it hard directly in front of him. It's sometimes difficult to scoop those up and he _hates_ them. She did it intentionally, of course, but...he still should have caught the ball."

Hermione grinned. "Well, she _did_ say she was going to give it to him."

Holly nodded. "That she did."

Then, as the next batter whacked the ball into the outfield, Holly stood up to see—because those in front of her did and she couldn't see over them—screaming something about getting the ball 'home.' Hermione watched as the crowd—on both sides—yelled, and the ball came flying in. Savannah, playing behind the plate, caught the ball and tagged the runner as the boy ploughed right into her, knocking her down to the ground hard—but she didn't drop the ball.

"_OUT_!" the umpire called, and the parents went wild—cheers on their side, groans on the other. The players, however, were furious—because Savannah lay sprawled in the dirt gasping for breath. This caused the clearing both benches and those on the field to come running in.

Much closer, Hunter rushed the plate from the mound. "Watch it, _jackass_!" he cursed, then shoved the boy who'd only just gotten up off of Savannah. "That's my sister!"

"Uh-oh," Holly whispered. She'd cast a glance at her daughter, whom she assumed would be fine—Savannah was a tough bird—to Hunter, whose black eyes glittered furiously; he looked ready to rip the other boy's head off.

Turning and shoving back, the other boy scowled. "Well maybe she should stick to ballet class then. _Baseball's_ for _boys_!"

At this, Holly cringed. "_That's_ not going to go over well."

Confused, Hermione could only stare—she'd noticed that Savannah was the only girl out there, but didn't think much of it.

"My _sister_ could run circles around you, _jerk_!" Hunter snarled as he gave the other boy another push. "In fact, she bats second, is two for three today, both doubles, _and_ she's caught all six innings of this game, not letting your _fat arse_ across the plate once, I might add!" he hollered.

The 'fat-arsed' boy's face turned almost purple with fury—and embarrassment.

This caused Holly to giggle. "I shouldn't laugh, but...Hunter always says _arse_ instead of ass when he's really pissed...off," she added when Hermione gave her a strange look—Hunter was not drunk.

"And what've _you_ done today?" Hunter continued. "Two strike outs and a single. _You're good_!" he said sarcastically. "And then you have the..._nerve_ to crash into our seventy-five pound catcher. _Nice_!"

"It's part of the game, jerk!" the purple-faced boy screamed. "If she can't take it, then she shouldn't play!"

At this, Hunter clenched his fist, but when he drew his arm back to hit the other boy, his teammates stepped in. As much as he himself teased his sister about everything under the sun—including her proclivity for baseball—he'd defend her to the death if someone else threatened her or said anything bad about her. "Let me go!" he snarled at his own teammates, his cap becoming dislodged in the struggle, his shoulder-length black hair falling across his tanned face.

By this time Savannah was on her feet. Accepting her cap from the boy who'd helped her up, she joined the rest of the team. They immediately parted so that she could join them. They'd once been unsure about a girl on the team, but she'd more than proved herself; she could play any position, better than most of them.

"You all right, Sav?" Hunter asked when he noticed her there.

Savannah, still a bit out of breath—and covered in dirt—nodded. She now stood with them, but just behind her brother, her hand on his non-punching arm.

"No worries, boys...I'm fine. All part of the game, Hunt," she smirked as she dropped the ball into his hand.

"All right, boys...umm...lady and gentlemen," the umpire corrected carefully, causing Savannah to roll her eyes. "Back to your positions."

Everyone turned to do what they were told, Hunter still grumbling that the other boy didn't get ejected. Grabbing Savannah's jersey as she turned to go back to the plate, Hunter said, "You sure you're okay?"

Rolling her eyes again—he was far too protective—Savvy nodded. "Of course." Glancing at the other team's dugout, then back at her twin brother, she said, "It was a hard hit, but...he's not really all _that_ fat, Hunt. And...it is part of the game." Then she shrugged. "And I _was_ blocking the plate."

Hunter frowned. Sometimes he hated that she insisted on playing sports—at least she wasn't interested in hockey, which he played during the winter while she dabbled in figure skating. Then, his dark eyes meeting her identical ones, he grinned. "You feel up to pitching?"

Her lips tipped up, showing her perfect teeth. "Always!"

And his eyes, glittering with mischief, Hunter turned and shouted, "COACH!"

**XxXxXxX**

Throwing just three pitches, Savvy struck out the final kid, sending them into the bottom of the seventh inning behind by one—luckily they were at the top of their line up.

Patrick, up first, faked a bunt, then slapped it right though the infield when the second baseman went to cover first—and Savvy sent the ball screaming over the centerfield fence, then jogged the bases...pirouetting as she crossed the plate, then smiling at the 'fat arse' who was the catcher for the other team as he threw his grove in the dirt. "Six years of ballet!" she said proudly. "And seven years of baseball...don't you forget it! And maybe you could catch me at the rink this winter...and check out my sit spin or my Salchow," she taunted as she turned to receive high-fives from her team. "What a Jerk off!" she said loudly.

In the stands, Holly covered her grin with a hand and chuckled again. "Can't seem to get them to mind their tongues."

"Is it over?" Hermione asked. "It seems over. Did we win?"

Holly laughed again. "Yeah, it's over. And yes, we won."

"Wow! I had no idea what was happening, but...that was exciting! I was so nervous...for Savannah. Is there always fighting in baseball?"

Holly shook her head. "Not always, but the twins manage to gain a fair amount of attention. They're _very_ good," she said with pride. "Which they certainly didn't get from me."

"Humph! Or their father," Hermione grumbled.

Holly grinned. "Don't you start on my husband, cousin!"

"_What_? I'm just saying...they didn't get their abilities in sports from Professor Snape. Never pulled his nose out of his cauldron, that one."

Holly laughed. For the first time in what seemed like ages, Holly truly laughed. "You're right there. When he was at the house, he was always busy mixing _something_...or grumbling about his students' failed potions."

Hermione couldn't help smiling as she watched her cousin's eyes light up—even though it was for Professor Snape. "He ever...mention me? I was abominable at potions."

Holly shrugged. "A few times. Said you were...what was it?" she said with a frown as she tried to recall.

"An insufferable know-it-all?" Hermione supplied.

Holly burst out laughing again. "Yes! That was it. You must have been something to raise his ire so."

Hermione snorted. "You knew a _completely_ different man, Holly. Professor Snape _hated_ us."

"He was very misunderstood," Holly defended the man she'd loved—still loved.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Right_!" she said, though she did know it was true. The man she'd known, who'd been her Potions professor, had been quite insufferable himself—but he was also misunderstood, which they'd only found out _after_ he'd died. It was tragic. "Once, in my first year," Hermione went on, "I set his robes on fire."

Holly's eyes rounded. "Intentionally?"

Hermione nodded.

"You didn't?"

Hermione nodded. "We thought he was jinxing Harry's broom—Harry's one of my best friends," she explained. "But it turned out that someone else was doing it and Professor Snape was only muttering the counter-curse.

Holly shook her head. "Might have tried to figure it out first."

Hermione shrugged, then said, "I didn't have time. I thought he was going to get Harry killed. And...he was always so mean to us."

"He did have a bit of a nasty temper," Holly admitted.

Hermione laughed. "A bit?"

Holly nodded, then glanced at her kids—they were packing their baseball bags. "The twins do too."

"So I noticed."

"So. Brooms. What do you people use brooms for?" Holly asked, not sure she really wanted to know.

"_Flying_, of course," Hermione said. "Not me...I _despise_ flying, but...they're necessary for Quidditch. It's _our_ sport. Harry made the Gryffindor team his first year, which is highly unusual...and later Ron, who's now my husband, and his sister, Ginny, were on the team too. Ginny...she's Harry's wife...she even played professionally for a time," Hermione said excitedly. "For the Holyhead Harpies. She was brilliant!"

Holly blanched. "Was?"

Hermione stared at her for a moment, then, realizing what her cousin thought, she shook her head. "Oh. Ginny's all right. She's just not playing anymore. She's having babies now," Hermione said with a pat to her own stomach. "Oh, Holly! The twins are going to _love_ Quidditch!

This made Holly frown. She had no idea what this Quidditch game entailed, and hated the thought of letting her children go off to this Hogwarts place, but...she knew she couldn't keep her them from their birthright—it wasn't fair—even if it didn't include her.

"They'll be sad that they won't be here to play baseball in the fall, then again in the spring," she said quietly, her eyes filling with tears.

Hermione instantly grabbed her cousin's hand and squeezed it. "You'll let them go to Hogwarts?"

Holly shrugged. "It's up to them really, isn't it? I don't like it, but I won't prevent them from going."

Waving her hand, Hermione spelled Holly's tears away—which caused Holly to blink in surprise—and just in time, because the kids were approaching. "You'll still see them, I promise," Holly whispered. "You'll have to move back to London though."

Holly nodded. "That's not a problem. I work from home, so I can work from there. Though, someone's going to have to remove that Fidelity thingy from my house, because it interferes with my computer."

Hermione giggled. "_Fidelius_ Charm," she corrected.

Rolling her eyes, Holly said, "Whatever."

* * *

**Post Script**

Anyone interested in the next chapter? Because...it _is_ finished. *grin***  
**


	12. Letters

**Author's Note**

Okay, this chapter sort of came out...weird, but...whatever, right? As you can see I'm adding some people we recognize...as the story goes along we'll see some of them pop in and out...here and there...but mostly the story is about Severus Snape's sons and daughters. So far I've given you three names (I think), Evanius, Hunter, and Savannah...might be time to add the other three names...soon...maybe. :p

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my tale!

* * *

**Word Count: **3,172

* * *

**Letters** (still the same day – August 2008)

After driving the boys home, Holly took her children and cousin out for lunch, where the two women talked and giggled like school girls for nearly two hours—much to the twins amazement and delight—then they headed back to the house. While driving there, Holly asked Hermione if she could stay the night—the house was quite large, so there was plenty of room—and Hermione accepted, thinking that it just might take the entire night to explain matters to the twins. Plus, she loved the thought of catching up. It would be great. But first, she needed to call her husband. So, when they got to the house, Hermione asked to use the telephone.

"Sure. It's right through there on the kitchen wall," Holly said, pointing.

"_This_ should be fun," Hermione muttered as she picked up the receiver and dialed. It was picked up almost instantly, but there was a sudden crash on the other end—with Ron, there was no telling what it might be. "_Ron_?"

"HELLO!"

Quickly, Hermione yanked the phone from her ear. "Hi Ron, it's me," she said calmly. "Is everything all right?"

"HELLO? WHO IS THIS? HERMIONE? IS THAT YOU? CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"Yes, Ron, it's me," she repeated, swearing that she was going to teach him how to use a Muggle telephone if it was the last thing she did.

"OH! THANK MERLIN!" he went on. "I'VE BEEN SO WORRIED!"

The phone still several inches from her ear, Hermione glanced into her cousin's living room and winced—they were all staring at her with rapt attention, because Ron was yelling so loudly that they'd heard every word. "I'm fine, Ron. Relax," she said as she retreated into the kitchen and away from those watching her.

"ARE YOU STILL THERE?" Ron yelled after only a short pause. "HERMIONE? IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to respond—but he didn't give her a chance.

"HERMIONE! _PLEASE_ SAY _SOMETHING_. ARE—YOU—ALL—RIGHT?" he shouted slowly.

"Oh, Ronald! Just _shut it_!" Hermione finally hissed, her voice then rising. "For the love of _Merlin_, people on the next _street_ can hear you!" She heard a gulp on the other end of the line—then something she couldn't make out. Then a lot of somethings she couldn't understand. Rolling her eyes again, she realized Ron was whispering—it almost sounded like when Harry was speaking Parseltongue, but she knew that her husband was not a Parselmouth—and this made her laugh. "Ronald!" she finally interrupted. "Do you think you could speak at a volume somewhere _between_ a shout and a whisper?"

"Hermione?" he then squeaked.

"Yes, Ronald, it's me," she said with exasperation. "I'm all right. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be staying overnight."

"I...I was worried," he said again. "Harry and Ginny were HERE, but they LEFT a while back to get James and Albus HOME to bed, and I was...JUST waiting UP!" he said, his voice pitching up and down as he spoke.

Glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall, Hermione frowned—it was after eleven o'clock at night in London. "Oh. I'm so sorry, Ron, I should have called earlier...I didn't realize the time. I was...at a ballgame."

"You went to a Quidditch match?" he asked.

Hermione knew _that he knew_ that she wasn't a huge fan of Quidditch, and so was obviously confused. "Umm. Something like that," she said with a frown. "I'll try to explain when I get home." _If I can_, she thought, hoping she could get her cousin to let her talk, since, according to McGonagall, she'd need permission to do so.

"Humph! Didn't know they PLAYED QUIDDITCH THERE!" Ron hollered.

"Ron, you're yelling again," Hermione said.

"Oops..._sorry_," he whispered, causing her to laugh. "You're 'kay, Hermione?" he asked.

"Yes, Ron, I'm fine," she said. "Now, go to bed. And...give Rose a kiss from me."

"I will."

"And Ron?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Hermione.

"Good night," she said—and he ended with, "GOOD NIGHT, HERMIONE!"

Smiling, Hermione replaced the receiver and walked out into the living room where Holly and the kids were pretending to watch the telly. Going to a chair, she sat down, then glanced at them. "He's not accustomed to using the telephone," she explained.

Both kids frowned. "Who's not used to using the phone?" Savvy asked.

Hunter snorted. "Not _everyone's_ on the phone twenty-four/seven, sis," he teased—and received a couch pillow to the head for it.

"Easy does it guys," Holly interrupted, thinking this might just become a pillow fight when Hunter grabbed the pillow from his sister and moved to whack her back with it. He got in one good blow, then halted. Standing, Holly said, "Wait right here."

Quickly, she went to the kitchen, retrieved the Hogwarts letters, then went back to where others waited. "There's something you both need to see," she began, her voice wavering. "I...I've kept something from you...about your father and..." Her eye filling with tears, she glanced at Holly.

Both Hunter and Savvy frowned. They looked from their mother to her cousin, then back. "What is it, mom? You know you can tell us anything," Hunter said.

And Savvy was nodding. "Yeah, mom...anything. What about dad?"

Talking a deep breath, Holly held out her shaking hands, a letter in each one—and slowly, her children reached out and took them. The envelopes, yellowish in color, were addressed identically—except for the Mr. on his and the Miss on hers—in emerald green. It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

~o~o~o~o~

Headmistress: MINERVA McGONAGALL

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, and High Sorceress; Registered_

_Animagus; Member of the Order of the Phoenix)_

Frowning, Hunter looked at his sister and said, "You go first."

Savvy's brow, pinched together in much the same way that Hunter's was, turned the envelope over, broke the seal, pulled out the letter, and read it aloud:

Dear Miss Snape,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please

Find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no

Later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Septima Sylvanus Vector

_Deputy Headmistress_

When Savvy finished, Hunter ripped his envelope open and silently read an identical letter—then he looked up at the two older women. "Is this a joke?"

"I'm afraid not, darling," Holly said, her hands now twisting in her lap. "My cousin Hermione here is...a witch...and...umm...so was your father. Or rather, he was a wizard." Biting her lip, Holly looked between her son and daughter's stunned faces. "And...so are the both of you apparently."

For a moment, Savannah just stared—and then she laughed. "O-_kay_," she said, her dark eyes full of mirth as they went to her brother.

"Yeah..._good_ one, mom," Hunter said, the corners of his mouth turning up, his white teeth gleaming brightly. "And it's not even April first."

"But it is after July thirty-first," Savvy quipped through her laughter. "So, I guess we missed the deadline?"

The brother and sister snickered—much to Holly's consternation. Glancing pleadingly at Hermione, she meant to ask for help—but neither had a chance to say anything because both Hunter and Savvy had dissolved into giggles.

"Hey, Sav, get a load of _this_," Hunter said as he whipped out the second sheet of strange paper and began reading:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

~o~o~o~o~

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students shold have a copy of each of the following:

1. _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_, by Miranda Goshawk

2. _A History of Magic_, by Bathilda Bagshot

3. _Magical Theory_, by Adalbert Waffling

4. _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_, by Emeric Switch

5. _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, by Phyllida Spore

6. _Magical Drafts and Potions_, by Arsenius Jigger

7. _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, by Newt Scamander

8. _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_, by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

~o~o~o~o~

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

At the end of Hunter's reading, he and his sister were almost in hysterics, both laughing so hard that tears were squeezing from the corners of their eyes and pouring down their now flushed cheeks—until Hermione pulled out a short wooden stick and, with a glance at her cousin and a flick of her wrist, said, "I hate to do this to them, but..._Silencio_!" And instantly, both children shut up.

Or rather, the room went silent. Though both Hunter and Savannah Snape were still talking, no sound could be heard. Stunned, both their mouths snapped shut and their eyes rounded—then they sat back fearfully.

"Finished laughing at us, are we?" Hermione asked after a few moments.

Hunter and Savannah nodded vigorously.

"Wow!" Holly said, "Wish _I _was capable of performing that spell."

"It's right handy at home when Ron gets into a row with one of his siblings; he has _five_ of them," Hermione said with a smile. "And goodness, you'd think someone had cast a ticking charm on these two...with the way they were carrying on, I'm surprised they didn't wet themselves." Then to the children, she said, "Are you two finished so I reverse the spell...or are your mother and I going to spend a quiet evening with just the two of _us_ chatting?"

Hunter glanced at his sister, then back at the women. He opened his mouth to speak, then, knowing he couldn't be heard, closed it again."

"Oh! I guess you can't answer a question like that," Hermione said, realizing that she'd asked two questions. "I'll ask again. Would you two like to be silent all night?"

Both dark heads shook vigorously.

"So then, you're finished? You'd like me to reverse the spell, would you?"

Both bobbed their heads, their black hair bouncing.

"Right then," Hermione said. Her wand up again, she gave them back their voices.

But neither seemed to have one now—for a few moments, at least. Then Savvy cleared her throat, testing, Hermione supposed.

"You're kind of scary, you know that?" Hunter said after following his sister's lead with the throat-clearing.

Hermione nodded. "I've been told that before, yes. Put a full body bind on a boy my first year and Ron said almost those exact words. Ron's the husband," she reminded them, then nodded toward the kitchen behind her, "the non-phone user."

"So...umm," Savvy finally said, "we're...witches?"

Hermione nodded. "You're a witch and Hunter's a wizard, yes."

"And...our father, Severus...he was...a wizard?" Hunter asked curiously, his dark eyes going to his mother's tear-filled ones.

Nodding, Holly said, "Yes."

"Is he...is he really...dead?" Savvy asked, her eyes filling as well.

Holly nodded again. "I'm afraid so."

Savannah's lip began to quiver. "You told us he died in a car crash, but...that's not true, is it?" she whispered.

Shaking her head, Holly dropped her head into her hands and let out a sob.

"Was it the magic that killed him?" the girl queried.

At this Holly looked to her cousin, because she didn't really know much about her husband's death. He had been killed by a large snake that apparently went by the name of Nagini, but other than that, she'd not bothered to read about it. It was too painful. The only other tidbit she knew was that her husband was considered a war hero by those in the wizarding world.

Hermione smiled gravely, then reached into her small beaded purse and pulled out an old—and much too large for the tiny bag—newspaper and handed it to the children.

"What's this?" Savannah asked as she stared at the oddly moving pictures on the..._newspaper_?

"It's called _The Daily Prophet_," Hermione told her. "That's from about a week after your father was killed. It has the entire list of deaths on the cover, and look," Hermione said as she reached out and gently turned the paper over, "this is your father."

Both Hunter and Savannah stared at the strange, otherworldly picture of a man who, in many ways, looked so very much like them—mostly it was the black hair and eyes, but they could see a similarity in features as well, though more so in Hunter. Extremely pale—that was one difference—and wearing all black, the man stood stiffly, both his hands clasped behind his back like the detention supervisor at their school; and he scowling as if he was very upset about something. It was an odd first picture of their father to see, but they were grateful for it anyway. They'd always wondered why there were no pictures of him in the house, but every time they'd tried to talk to their mother about him, she'd clammed up. Not that she _wouldn't_ talk about him, because she did—when _she_ wanted to. She'd made sure they knew how wonderful he was and that she'd loved him very much, but...that was it. Now they understood—sort of.

It was Hunters turn to speak. "Is that why you never date and why you're always so sad?" he asked quietly.

With a sigh, Holly nodded. "I was...devastated when I found out your father had been killed. He'd warned me that it was a possibility, but..." She shook her head. "I...I guess I didn't believe. And then they came and told me. And then I called your grandparents and...told them about...some stuff. Not the magic though." She shook her head again.

"And grandma told you to bring us here, didn't she?" Savannah asked.

Holly nodded. Her kids were too smart for their own good. "Yes. I thought they'd be angry that I'd kept my marriage and you two a secret, but...they never once said anything about it. Shortly after...it happened, I brought you both to the States and...we've been here since."

"But now...we have to go back?" Hunter asked.

Holly shrugged. "I suppose we have choices. You received letters from three other schools, but I...I think you should go to the one that your father went to."

"What about baseball?" Savvy asked—and Holly shook her head.

"There's no baseball at Hogwarts, darling, but there is..." She stopped then and looked at Hermione.

"Quidditch," the young pregnant woman supplied. "I think you'll both like Quidditch."

"And...we can bring out cats?"

Hermione smiled. "You have cats?"

They nodded.

"Me too. Mine is called Crookshanks...he's part Kneazle. And yes, you can _definitely_ bring your cats."

Both Hunter and Savannah smiled, but then Hunter said, "But...it says I can have an owl...that would be fun."

Holly shrugged. "Whatever you want, darling," she said, just glad they'd stopped asking about their father. "Silver can stay home with me if you'd prefer to bring an owl."

That made both of her children blink, then frown. "You won't be coming with us, will you?" they asked in unison.

"Well, not to Hogwarts, but I'll move to back to London and see you on every break," Holly promised. "I still have our house there, so..." Her words trailed off, then her eyes filled with tears. "Are you too mad at me?" Holly asked, her tears running rivulets down her cheeks.

At her words, Hunter and Savannah launched themselves from the couch to their mother's lap and hugged her. They were confused, yes...but not mad. "Of course not, mummy," they said together, instantly lapsing into what they'd called her when they were much, much younger.

Holding them for quite some time, Holly realized her daughter had fallen asleep. Wondering if Hunter had as well, she moved slightly—he hadn't. Slowly he moved away, so that she could scoop up Savannah. "I'll be right back," she said to her cousin, then took her children to their beds.

**XxXxXxX**

"So that's it then?" Holly said. She and Hermione were again standing in the living room, her kids on the couch watching them, full of bubbly excitement. It was the next morning and, after a long night, a good sleep, and a hearty breakfast, they'd gone over the other letters Hunter and Savannah had received. There were three other schools vying for their attendance: _The Northern Lights School of Magical Studies_, in Canada; _The Salem Witches' Institute, U.S.A._, which, though it was in Massachusetts, they rejected it right away, because it was an all-girls school and the twins didn't wish to be separated; and a school in Brazil, also rejected, this one because the native language wouldn't be English. In the end though, they'd decided on Hogwarts because that's where Severus had once attended and later taught.

"It seems so," Hermione said. "Ring me when you get into London, so we can get together."

Holly nodded.

"I'm serious," Hermione pushed. "I don't want you going through this alone."

"I promise," Holly said earnestly. "Diagon Alley?"

Hermione laughed. "You've been there?"

"A few times."

"You've got some stories to tell," Hermione realized.

"We can trade tales."

Hermione smiled. "It's a deal! And I'd like you to meet my family and friends. There's no reason you can't now, right?"

Holly shrugged. "Not that I can think of."

Hermione grinned. "Good then," she said, then hugged her cousin. "Oh! I almost forgot." Reaching into her tiny beaded purse, she rummaged around, then pulled out a huge book and a smaller one. "You two can get started on _these_. I read _Hogwarts, A History_ prior to attending and it was extensively helpful, gives you a complete background on the place. The other one might be more fun..._Quidditch Through the Ages_."

Hunter and Savannah took the books and hugged their mother's cousin, then sat down and started pouring over the books.

"All right then. I'd been go...Ron's already anxious enough," Hermione said, then tapped her necklace. "This ghastly piece of jewelry is a portkey, which means it'll transport me directly home from here. Unfortunately the God-awful thing will stay here when I take it off, so...do with it whatever you'd like, I guess."

Holly nodded.

"Anything else before I go?"

Holly's eyes filled with tears and she threw her arms around her cousin. "No, but thank you for coming, Hermione. You've been a great help. I don't think we'd have gotten through this without you."

Hugging her cousin back, and giving each of the twins another one too, Hermione smiled. "You're welcome and...see you soon." Then she pulled the necklace from her neck and placed it on a table—disappearing instantly as her fingers released the device.

* * *

**Post Script**

So...I'm finding TONS of typos and I haven't even posted this yet. Please, please, PLEASE inform me of what you find so I can fix them. Thanks!**  
**


	13. Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy

**Author's Note**

Okay...new chapter is taking a shift to someone else...the lovely Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy! FYI, I made up her middle name, using a name in her family (a constellation name).

Let's see...what else do you need to know...er...this chapter explains what the Malfoys have been up to for the last ten years...kinda, sorta. And...I've given them some family members whom you may or may not meet later...probably will. Again, the** family tree** available upon request (thought it's constantly changing).

So...**warnings**...implied sexual activity within...and one F-bomb. Sorry. *grin*

* * *

**Word Count: **3,947

* * *

**Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy** (23 August, 2008)

Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy stared at the letter she'd received by owl just moments ago; it was from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Surprised, because she'd truly not expected a response—and because she'd not received one letter from the school addressed to herself since the summer before her final year at the school, 1972—she dropped onto one of her two favorite settees, which was situated near the center of her own private room, an oval, rosewood table between them—and quickly opened the yellowish envelope.

Dear Mrs. Malfoy,

After careful consideration, we are pleased to inform you that your

application for employment at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and

Wizardry has been accepted; we would be most pleased to have

you on our staff. Unfortunately, we are unable to offer the position

of your choice (Potions), as that position is currently being taught

by Madeline Vance. However, after looking over your own school

records, it has come to our attention that, along with most other

subjects, you excelled at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Thus, if

you are willing to take on that position, the job is yours.

Further, should you choose to join our staff, we would also request

that you take over as Head of Slytherin House.

Please respond by owl forthwith, as we need to know if we should

continue our search.

Yours sincerely,  
Professor M. McGonagall  
Headmistress at HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

P.S. Should you choose to accept the position, we will require your

immediate presence. As the new school year begins in just nine days,

and because it has been many years since you have been here (aside

from your short visit in 1998), we would like to get you situated.

Please expect to arrive on Monday morning.

Smiling nervously, her blue eyes twinkling for the first time in a very long time, Narcissa pushed at a non-existent fallen strand of long blonde hair and read the letter again—and then again for good measure—then gracefully rose, crossed the room to her rosewood ladies desk. Sitting, she rolled it open, pulled out some parchment and reached for her quill and ink, then proceeded to respond to the headmistress' letter. Finishing it quickly, she reread it, then folded it and slipped it into a new envelope, sealed it, and held it out to the waiting owl—who promptly took it and flew off.

Narcissa watched the owl until it was out of sight—and then she frowned, bit her lip, and glanced at her closed door. Now she'd have to tell her family what she'd done and she knew it wasn't going to go over well. Things at Malfoy Manor had been rough since the war. Granted, they'd not been sent to Azkaban—thank Merlin—as they fully deserved, but that didn't mean they weren't prisoners. They were tried and released—if you could call it that. There were many conditions. Lucius was on house arrest for the first five years—not that it mattered; the man was completely broken—she'd received three years, and Draco one; his sentence split and postponed so that he could attend his seventh year at Hogwarts—much to his chagrin, that was a condition of his "freedom"—but he'd been made to finish serving his time after completing school.

Narcissa remembered well the time they'd spent trapped inside the massive walls of their own property—which, to be honest, they'd been lucky not to lose altogether. It had only _started_ with the trial and sentencing. Being on house arrest entailed many things; first and foremost that they did not leave their property for any reason—and they'd all been required to wear matching detention bracelets to ensure that they did not; second, their vast bank accounts at Gringotts were temporarily frozen and investigated; third, their home was subjected to extremely thorough searches; fourth, though visitors _were_ allowed, any number over three had to be formally requested and approved, in writing, before the gathering could take place; and finally, they were removed from the Floo Network—just in case—making communication by owl their only means of contacting anyone outside their home.

The bracelets, which were normally of a non-distinct charcoal gray color, could be charmed to do any number of things. First, they had an Anti-Disapparation Jinx on them, making it so both Apparation and Disappartion, either in and around the house or off the property, was impossible. Second, the bracelets made it so that any physical attempt to leave the property—by any means—caused them to feel extremely ill—once such attempt had landed her husband in bed for a week, a mediwitch from St. Mungo's at his side and an Auror stationed just outside the bedroom door. And third, the bracelets completely prevented the use of magic, so they'd been forced to do everything for themselves—for the most part...they still had their house-elves.

The freezing of their accounts at Gringotts, however, was less bothersome than one might imagine. For one thing, they had their Galleons spread all over the world, in accounts the Wizengamot had no authority to touch, so they weren't all that worried. But they also kept large sums within their home, which, strangely enough, the Wizengamot didn't seem to care about. And frankly, Narcissa wondered, what were they to do with all their money when they couldn't even go anywhere to spend it? And the freeze was only temporary. As soon as the investigation had concluded—with no adverse effects—and the raids on Malfoy Manor had been completed, they'd been given full access to all accounts at Gringotts.

The raids were a different story. For weeks the manor was filled with Aurors, and other magical law enforcement, everyone searching for anything that might be dark and illegal. Lucius had followed them around whining about how they were disturbing all his precious heirlooms and artifacts, and other such nonsense, while she'd just remained in their sleeping quarters, ignoring those searching as best as she could—they'd left her personal space an absolute disaster and still she'd not complained. And, as far as she could tell, Draco had tried to follow her lead. It was hard to know exactly what was going on with her son though, because he'd mostly kept to himself—it was something she fretted over.

As for visitors, they'd not had many. Most of the people with whom they'd previously associated were either dead or in Azkaban, leaving them virtually no one—though there were the precious few. In the beginning, Lucius had a few business-related visits—which Narcissa could only hope were on the up and up, since he'd insisted that she not be present—and later a visit here and there from his two elderly aunts, Amulara and Adora, sisters of Abraxas Malfoy, and even a few visits from cousins—whom she didn't care for— that Lucius not spoken of in years.

She herself had been less lucky. During the time she'd sat at her husband's side, supporting his every decision, she'd managed to alienate almost every person she knew—even the wives of the former Death Eaters had ignored all invitations she'd sent, causing her to be quite lonely. She did have Lucius' aunts as company—occasionally—but it was not enough. And then she'd received an owl from her sister, Andromeda. Andromeda, who looked nearly identical to their dead sister, Bellatrix, was still furious and had refused to come see her, but Narcissa lived for her owls—which came every Sunday, just like clockwork—giving Narcissa hope that someday they'd be able to sit in the same room again, like sisters should.

Draco, on the other hand, had the largest number of guests, as he'd managed to retain a few friends from school. Some of them had lost a parent. Some of them had a parent in Azkaban. And some of them had parents suffering fates similar to their own. Narcissa thought they all seemed to be pulling together and gathering strength wherever they could—and that was a good thing. But, after Draco's year of house arrest, he disappeared for a time. He'd spent his year completely ignoring both of his parents, and then he was gone—to where Narcissa didn't know—turning up again in December of 2005 with a newly pregnant wife.

Part of Narcissa was furious with her son for leaving her alone with her husband, though logically she knew it was not Draco's fault and that Lucius was not _his_ responsibility. But that didn't stop her from harboring some resentment. Lucius could often be heard talking to people who were not there—sometimes even the Dark Lord. This worried her greatly, but it also frustrated her to no end. It was he who'd gotten them into this mess in the first place and yet _he_ was choosing to escape, if only mentally.

But she didn't complain.

And then came her grandson, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, an adorable—almost exact replica of Draco—and she loved him beyond measure.

And so did Lucius. In fact, when the boy was born, Lucius' eyes lit up again. After almost eight years of near-comatose behavior, the man seemed to be back—though not one hundred percent.

But Narcissa was still feeling resentful—she resented the fact that her son had checked out physically, while Lucius had done so mentally, and she wanted out. Not out of the marriage, per se—she still deeply loved her insane husband—just out for a while; out long enough to clear her head. And that's why she'd applied to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Actually, it had been at Andromeda's suggestion. Narcissa and her sister still had not met in person in the years since Narcissa's house arrest, but the frequency of their letters had increased significantly, and that gave Narcissa at least some pleasure—and hope for the future.

But now she needed to tell her family that she was leaving, though not permanently, and she was terrified.

Dressing for their evening meal, Narcissa left her private rooms for the dining room.

**XxXxXxX**

"Mother," Draco said, rising as Narcissa entered the room. "We would have waited, but we didn't think you'd be joining us this evening."

After glancing at her husband at the table's head—he'd not gotten up—Narcissa gave her son a tight smile, then floated to her usual place and lowered herself into her chair. "That's quite all right, Draco, I was just responding to an owl."

Sitting again, Draco nodded, then picked up a bottle of elf-made wine and filled his mother's glass. "Aunt Andromeda?"

"Mmm," was all Narcissa could manage without out and out lying. Her son had never said so, but she knew he was glad that she'd been communicating with Andromeda. Though it was slow in going—the reconnect between sisters—she was setting an example that showed her son that he too could get over the past. And he was...slowly.

"Mother?"

Blinking, Narcissa sighed. Then she decided to get it over with. "I have...an announcement to make," she said.

At this, everyone at the table, including Lucius, gave her their full attention.

"I've taken a position at Hogwarts," she said—then continued quickly. "Headmistress McGonagall has offered me Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I have accepted."

Everyone just stared—and then Lucius snorted.

"Without even _discussing_ it with me, Narcissa?" he asked disdainfully. "That's not very becoming."

"And I'm to be the Head of Slytherin House," she went on without responding to her husband's question or ridiculous comment.

"You _can't_ be serious!" Lucius burst. "You should have asked me first."

Narcissa frowned, then reached for her wine glass, took a sip—then a gulp—then nodded. "I'm _quite_ serious, Lucius. And...since when do I have to _ask_ to do what I want? Do you fancy yourself taking over where the Dark Lord left off?" she spat—then cringed, knowing she'd gone too far.

Lucius blanched at this—and then he frowned. "I _am_ the lord of this manor, Narcissa, _and_ your husband," he ground out with obvious frustration. "I should not have to hear about this _after_ the fact. You should have at least mentioned it privately," he whispered, his eyes going to their son and his wife as if he'd just realized they were still there.

She too glanced at her son and daughter-in-law—Draco was listening intently, but Astoria looked as if she wanted to flee—then her blue eyes went back to her husband. "I only just found out. They needed to know right away, so I owled before coming down for supper. And, I'm bored here, Lucius. So bored and..._lonely_."

The man frowned again. "You are not alone here."

Narcissa snorted. "No, but...I have _no idea_ where my husband's head is most of the time," she said. "And when was the last time we shared a bed?"

His eyes flashing angrily, Lucius looked as if he'd been slapped, then he stood up and left the room—and everyone watched him go.

Blushing, Narcissa looked down at her plate.

After several minutes of shocked silence—hearing talk of his parent's marriage bed was...disturbing, to say the least—Draco asked, "Do you think this was the best time to do that, Mother?"

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "And when would be a better time, Draco? I'm tired of this! It's been ten years since the Dark Lord's defeat and we're _still_ wallowing in despair. The first five years following, I could understand, but...this is too much. I'm done!" Pushing back her chair, Narcissa stood up; she wasn't hungry.

Draco frowned. "But..._Hogwarts_, Mother?" he asked, rising as well. "How could you even think about going _there_?"

Narcissa frowned, then shrugged. "Where else do you expect me to go? Grimmald Place? As if Potter would have me," she said, her blue eyes rolling.

"It's _your_ family home, Mother, not _Potter's_!" Draco growled angrily, wishing Potter's name hadn't come up—even ten years later it was painful.

Narcissa shook her head. "No, it was Sirius' parent's home...Potter's _godfather's_ home. Much as he was hated by his parents, Sirius inherited it and it went to Potter when he died. I have no right to go there."

Draco clenched his jaw, then said, "What about Aunt Andromeda's?"

Narcissa sighed. "We have yet to actually speak in person, dear, do you _really_ think she'd have me?"

Draco frowned. "She might."

"Besides, it was Andromeda's suggestion...that I...get out for a while...that I spend some time at Hogwarts."

"What...what about me? What about us?" Draco corrected himself with a gesture at himself and then Astoria. "You're just going to leave us here alone with Father?"

"I won't be gone _forever_," Narcissa whispered.

"No, just for the next _ten_ months!" Draco snapped. "Leaving _us_ to deal with _him_!"

"And...where were _you_ for over five years when I needed _you_, Draco?" Narcissa asked her son, her blue eyes filling with tears. "I was here _alone_ with your father, which means, as you well know, that I was _completely_ alone. Do you have any idea what that was like?"

His gray eyes narrowing as pain spread over his face, Draco gave the slightest of nods. "I do, but...I _needed_ to leave, Mother. I was..._so_ angry with you and Father." He shook his head. "I...I didn't know what I was capable of. I had to go."

Narcissa nodded. "It was devastating, Draco. It hurt so much, and I'm so glad that you are finally home. But, I do understand your need to leave," she said. "And I need you to understand that I need that now too. It's just temporary."

Feeling Astoria's hand snake in to his, Draco glanced down at his wife. She still looked scared, but she nodded to let him know that she understood and to tell him that she would be supportive. And because she did that, Draco nodded too. "I do understand, Mother, and, though I don't like it, I will accept it."

"I will as well, Narcissa," Astoria said. "We will miss you. _Scorpius_ will miss you."

Narcissa's heart clenched at the thought of not seeing her grandson on a daily basis, but squared her narrow shoulders and tried to be strong—she _needed_ this. Pursing her lips, she struggled to blink back the tears burning in her eyes, then blinked, allowing them to fall. Then smiling, she circling the table to hug both her son and his wife. "Thank you," she whispered, then went to find her husband.

**XxXxXxX**

Narcissa sped through the manor, going straight to the room she knew she'd find her husband—the study that used to be his own father's—and sure enough, he was there. Sitting behind a massive desk, a bottle of Firewhiskey in hand, the man took a large swig—and not from a glass.

"Don't do this to yourself, Lucius," she begged from the doorway.

Before looking at her, the man took another gulp. "Why shouldn't I, Narcissa? Give me one good reason to not lose myself in this bottle and I'll put it down."

Narcissa frowned. "I'm taking the job, Lucius," she said flatly.

"Just like _that_?" he snarled with a snap of his fingers. "You're leaving me?"

"I'm _not_ leaving you," she whispered, inching into the room and closing the door.

"Could have fooled me," he mumbled, the bottle at his lips again.

"I've been stuck at the manor for _years_," she said with a frustrated shake of her head. "I'm going stir-crazy!"

Lucius' head snapped up. "Are you saying that I make you crazy?"

Rolling her eyes, Narcissa thought it very like him to turn it around. "I'm not saying that, darling. I love you, but—"

"There's _always_ a but, isn't there?" he interrupted.

Narcissa sighed. "Why are you acting like you care? For _years_ you've been in your own little world and I've been left to my own devices. I _need_ to get out of here for a while," she said, throwing her arms up in the air.

Standing, Lucius circled his desk and went to her. "Stay."

Narcissa shook her head. "I can't."

Then, doing something he'd not done in _Narcissa couldn't _remember_ how long_, Lucius slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her to his chest—it was as hard and unrelenting as ever it had been.

"Stay," he whispered, his soft lips at her ear.

Closing her eyes, Narcissa allowed herself to melt against her husband. They'd always been good at this, but it was...too little too late. "I can't, Lucius."

"Can't...or _won't_?"

"Either one. You choose," she said, expecting him to drop his loving act and snarl nastily at her. He didn't. Instead, he only held her tighter. "Besides, I've already sent word that I'm taking the position. McGonagall will be expecting me."

Nodding, Lucius started nibbling up and down the slender column of her neck, his fingers drawing circles on her back. "I've been a horrible husband, Narcissa...I know that and I'm so sorry," he said, shifting to rain kisses on her upturned face. Slowly, he pulled a hand from her back and produced his wand, so that he could ward the door against entry and put a silencing spell on the room, then he smiled slyly down at his wife, ground himself up against her, and maneuvered her over to his desk where he promptly lifted her up and plopped her back down on top of it.

Shocked, Narcissa let out an undignified squeal, her eyes going wide—Lucius hadn't so much as kissed her in years, let alone made love to her, and now he wanted to do it in his study, on his desk. She was further surprised when his lips slammed down on hers, reminding her of days long-past when they'd quite literally used ever square inch of Malfoy Manor for their games.

Closing her eyes, Narcissa kissed him back with equal fervor, then said, "This changes nothing, Lucius. I'm still going."

He nodded. "Fine then," he said before banishing her clothing.

"That's not at all fair, husband!" she snapped. "How am I to respond in a like manner now that you've magicked my wand away?"

"I guess you will have to be creative," Lucius answered. "Do you remember when we used to do that, Narcissa?"

Grinning, Narcissa grabbed his tailored shirt, then, in one swift move, yanked it open—causing twelve tiny buttons to go flying about. "Creative enough for you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.

Smirking, Lucius leaned around his wife, pushed everything from his desk, sending it all crashing to the ground—the Firewhisky bottle and glass shattering—then eased her backward. "I always did like your style, Mrs. Malfoy."

**XxXxXxX**

"They've been in there for _hours_," Draco complained to his wife as he paced in their private suite of rooms. "What do you suppose they're _doing_ in Father's study?"

Astoria glanced up from the latest copy of _Witches Weekly_ with a grin. "What do you _think_ they're doing?"

Draco frowned. "No. Uh-ah. _Impossible_! They don't even talk, let alone..."

"You said yourself there's a silencing charm on the door," Astoria pointed out. "Though, I _am_ surprised at your voyeuristic tendencies."

He stopped pacing. "Ahh...can you say, _Slytherin_?"

Astoria chuckled—then she said, "They're fucking, Draco...get over it!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Nice language."

Astoria snorted, but ignored her husband's snootiness—plus, she knew he liked it when she talked dirty. Closing her magazine, she stood up. "Isn't it a good thing if they can get some of their old passion back?" she asked as she went to him. "You always told me they loved deeply. This is wonderful."

Draco nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "They didn't like to display it openly, but...sometimes, when they didn't know I was there, they'd...become quite amorous."

"You're such a voyeur," Astoria teased as she kissed her husband's jaw—and then his lips.

Kissing her back, Draco almost became distracted—then he remembered that his mother was leaving. "But, how's this going to work when she's gone?"

Astoria rolled her eyes. "She's not _dying_, Draco. She'll just be at Hogwarts for a while. Maybe the separation will give him a reason to...get better." She shrugged. "You mother's right about one thing; she _needs_ this. And honestly, I think your father does too. He's not had a reason to recover...now he'll be forced to."

Draco frowned for several minutes as he considered his wife's words. "I think you might be right. But...so much is going to fall to your hands, Astoria...are you _sure_ you don't mind?"

Astoria shrugged. "Families pull together in a crisis, Draco, and...though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't fearful, I can handle it."

Smiling, Draco leaned down and kissed his wife tenderly. "How did I get so lucky?"

Astoria shrugged. "I really couldn't say, but...you did."

Kissing her again, Draco whispered, "Thank you."

"You're very much welcome, my dear," she said. "Now, stop worrying about what those parents of yours are doing and take me to bed."

**XxXxXxX**

Straightening her clothing—that he's unbanished—Narcissa took a few deep breaths, then turned toward the door. "Are you coming to bed, Lucius?" she asked. "I'm definitely _not_ finished with you."

Lucius growled lustily as he followed her. "I hope we don't run into Draco in the halls," he mumbled as he held his buttonless shirt closed and glanced at his wife's disheveled appearance.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, darling, are you a wizard or what? Just repair it." Then, with a smirk, she said, "Oh, and please do repair that shirt...I very much enjoyed ripping it open."

* * *

**Post Script**

Just wanted to thank everyone who's reading...I can tell by the "story traffic" that I have a lot of readers...and I'm thrilled that you're giving my silly fic a go!**  
**


	14. Sisters Reunited

**Author's Note**

Okay...do I have anything to say? Hmm. Well...just more tangenty silliness. :p

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**Word Count: **3,784

* * *

**Sisters**** Reunited** (25 August, 2008)

Narcissa had spent the morning at Malfoy Manor checking and rechecking to make sure she had everything she needed—most of which would be taken over to Hogwarts by house-elf—then she'd breakfasted with her family. Draco and Astoria did their best to be as encouraging as possible—thank Merlin, because she didn't think she could have handled it if they'd not been supportive. Lucius, on the other hand, was quite subdued—he'd barely spoken a word to her since they'd awakened. Not that she blamed him really, after the last thirty-six hours of never leaving their bed—much to their son's obvious discomfiture—she too was too confused about the new relationship they'd entered into to speak about it. After years of quiet complacency, they'd somehow found their passion again—and now she was leaving. It was...confusing, to say the least. And then there was their adorable grandson. Two-year-old Scorpius was as bouncy as ever; he'd spent the morning crawling all over her—and everyone else—as if he'd known that something was up.

And then it was time for her to actually leave—and everyone gathered in front of the Floo.

Cuddling her grandson, Narcissa's eyes filled with tears as she squeezed him lovingly—making the boy squeal with delight, then squirm so that he could put his tiny pale arms about her neck, which, in turn, caused her heart to skip a beat. This was turning out to be so much more difficult than she'd realized it would be, but she forced herself to let go—before she changed her mind. _I _need _this_! she reminded herself.

Placing a quick kiss on the boy's sweet little turned up nose, Narcissa handed her grandson back to his mother, then hugged her daughter-in-law and grandson as one.

"Please, take care of my boys," Narcissa said to the younger woman. "All three of them." Then backing up, she went on. "I'm counting on you, dear."

Astoria nodded. "Of course I will, Narcissa. Please don't worry."

Narcissa smiled sadly, but didn't respond—then turned toward her son. "Draco, darling."

"We'll be fine, Mother," he said, then repeated his wife's words. "Please don't worry."

Touching her son's pale cheek, Narcissa nodded, then turned to look at her husband. He stood there silently...stoically...his body rigid as he took in the scene.

"Please don't be angry," she pleaded. "I'm not doing this to hurt you."

Lucius's gray eyes, which looked sharp and unbending, softened instantly. "I know that, Narcissa, and I am not angry," he said as he stepped forward and took his wife into his arms. "I am going to miss you..._desperately_," he admitted directly into her ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I am not angry."

Squeezing her husband, Narcissa sighed her relief. "I hope you'll take this time to...get yourself back in order."

Lucius nodded into her hair.

"And, I will be home for the holidays," she went on. Then, leaning back, she said, "Maybe, if you're feeling up to it, we could have a holiday party...like we used to. I do _so_ miss those."

Lucius thought for a moment, then nodded. "Perhaps not so much like we used to though," he said, thinking about the guests of Christmases past—and some of the other not-so-nice activities usually associated with some of those people. "But yes, I think that would be grand."

Narcissia grinned, pleased beyond measure—in the mere hours since she'd announced her intention to teach at Hogwarts, her husband had made an incredible turn around—he'd come alive again. He still had quite a ways to go, but seeing him trying gave her hope. She just hoped her absence didn't hinder his recovery.

"And maybe...maybe we could meet on a Hogsmeade weekend?" she said.

Lucius frowned.

"When you're feeling up to it, that is," she added, knowing her husband hadn't set foot off their property in a decade; the first five years he'd not been allowed to leave the manor, the last five years he'd not been able.

Nodding, Lucius clutched at her. "Yes. I think that I'd like that."

Smiling widely, Narcissa once again leaned in and hugged her husband, clutching at him as if she might lose him altogether; after all that they'd been through, she didn't think she could stand it if that happened. Then, so quietly that no one else could hear her, she whispered something that turned the man's solemn features into something else entirely, and caused his lips up into a devious smirk—then she pulled back enough so that she could press her lips to his. Still holding the man, she kissed him soundly—and he returned each kiss with equal passion, mindless of their audience.

For several shocked moments, Draco stared at his parents as they stood there exchanging their heated affections. It was definitely a rare sight, as he could count on just one hand the number of times he'd witnessed such a display in his twenty-eight years. And then, feeling as if he was intruding, he blushed slightly and glanced away from the spectacle, only to have his eyes drawn back to his parents by his father's throaty chuckle.

"I believe we've managed to embarrass our son," Narcissa remarked when her eyes followed Lucius' gaze.

Lucius nodded. "I do believe you're correct, Narcissa," he said. And then to his son, "Really, Draco, one would think you're still a schoolboy, and not a married man with a child."

Draco's eyes widened with surprise.

"Can't a man send his wife off with a proper goodbye?" Lucius went on.

"I'm not sure the main living space is the proper place for _that kind_ of goodbye, Father," Draco mumbled—which caused his both his parents to smile. "It's not as though I'm used to this...this behavior, from you two, you know," he almost whined.

Nodding, Narcissa reached out and stroked her son's handsome face. "No, you're not, darling...and I'm sorry about that. We probably should have shown more affection in front of you, so that you knew the extent of our love, but...it's not as though your father and I have _always_ been celibate. You must know that, right?"

It took a moment for Draco to grasp what his mother had just said, and then he scowled. "_Mother_! I do not want to hear about you and Father and...and _that_! As far as _I'm_ concerned, _that_ only happened one time."

At this Astoria covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, though she was quite unsuccessful at muting it completely.

"Yes, of course," said Narcissa with a _very_ un-Malfoy-like snicker. "Of course there was just the one time." Then she turned and embraced her husband yet again. "I will owl you at least twice a week," she promised. "Keep you updated on everything."

Lucius nodded, but his face looked strained again.

"And we'll meet at Hogsmead?"

Reluctantly, he nodded again—after a decade of seclusion, the idea of being out in public was daunting.

"And maybe...you can come to the castle for a visit, if the headmistress allows it."

Yet again, Lucius nodded. "Yes. Though, you do know how much I despise traveling by Floo." He shuddered at the sooty mess it involved.

"Yes, I know, darling, but, as you know, Apparating into Hogwarts is impossible."

"What about that vanishing cabinet?" Lucius asked.

Draco shook his head. "It was destroyed, Father."

"Of course it was," Lucius mumbled.

"We'll get through this," Narcissa insisted.

Taking a deep breath, Lucius Malfoy nodded. "I know that, Narcissa," he said. Then hearing the clock in their entrance all being to chime, he frowned. "You are going to be late on your first day," he scowled, which made her smile.

"Wouldn't want that," she said, then turned back toward their son. "I expect regular owls from the both of you as well."

Both Draco and Astoria nodded.

"And pictures of my grandson," she said, then frowned. "I'm going to miss so much."

Astoria shook her head. "I'll see to it that you miss nothing, Narcissa."

Narcissa pursed her lips and nodded, her eyes shifting to her son again. Silently she begged him to take care of his father and, though she knew he didn't want to, his eyes showed that he would do it—for her.

"Give them hell, Mother...all those incompetent students," Draco said. "And...see if you can deduct enough points from Gryffindor, so that Slytherin can win the House Cup."

Narcissa smiled at her son. "Now, Draco, that would be cheating."

He smiled slyly. "You know they'll deserve it."

Chuckling, Narcissa grabbed some Floo powder, then stepped in and whispered another goodbye to her family, then threw the powder down, loudly said, "HOGWARTS, HEADMISTRESS McGONAGALL'S OFFICE!" and disappeared in a blinding green flame.

**XxXxXxX**

For several, _very_ long minutes, Lucius Malfoy stared at the place his wife had just been. One moment she was there, a constant in his life, and the next she was gone. Just Flooed away! and Lucius couldn't believe that she'd really left him—or rather, that she'd left Malfoy Manor. It was more than unexpected and, temporary as she'd said her absence would be, he was suddenly feeling quite depressed. Thinking back, he almost couldn't remember a time that she'd not been there, in his family home, at his side. They'd known each other as children, had attended school together and, though their marriage had been arranged by their parents—Cygnus and Druella Black had been quite close to Abraxas and Livia Malfoy—and didn't start out as a love match, they'd quickly become enamored with one another, rarely separating themselves from each other for very long. There'd been exceptions to that, of course, they were both _capable_ of going out alone—business meetings, shopping, and the like—but mostly they stayed together, supporting one another wholeheartedly. There'd been his brief stay at Azkaban prison that separated them, but they'd managed to survive that, painful as it was—surely they could survive this as well.

But that didn't mean that Lucius liked it. Beneath him though it was, he'd spent the weekend begging her to stay—and making love to her—but she'd refused, saying the time apart would do them good, and that she expected him to use his time wisely. Time. Now he was cursing the time—the years—he'd wasted.

"Are you all right, Father?"

Blinking, Lucius looked at his son. Standing close, but not touching him—unfortunately he'd raised his son with quite the cold hand—Draco's gray eyes looked worried. This made Lucius sad as well. What he'd put his family through was inexcusable, and yet they continually forgave his behavior. He was disgusted with himself.

"Father?" came Draco's voice again.

Lucius frowned, his eyes flickering about. Realizing his daughter-in-law had left the room, taking his grandson with her, he sighed. "How long have I been...unfocused?"

"Not long."

Glancing up at a wall-clock, the elder Malfoy snorted. "I _am_ still capable of telling time, Draco."

"Yes, Father."

"Where did Astoria take my grandson?" Lucius asked, ignoring the slight twitch at the corners of his son's lips.

"They went up to the playroom," Draco answered.

Lucius sighed. He'd wanted to sit with the boy awhile, maybe read to him, but...it was just as well; he could hardly stand. "I'm tired," he whispered.

With a frown, his son looked him over; he knew he didn't look his best—that he hadn't for years—but he didn't like being under anyone's scrutiny. Turning slightly, he hoped to hide his sunken and shadowed face from his son.

"You should lie down then," Draco suggested.

Sighing again, Lucius gave a slight nod and squared his shoulders, then started from the room slowly.

"Rest well, Father," Draco said quietly—to which he received no reply.

**XxXxXxX**

"You are sure then, about this?" Headmistress McGonagall asked as she and a brunette woman walked through the stone corridors of Hogwarts' castle toward the seventh floor entrance to her office. "It's not too late to alter the plan. It's not ideal, but I do have one other who _could_ take the position, though I don't think he'd be interested at this point."

Andromeda Tonks shook her head. "No, I'm absolutely _not_ certain about this, Minerva, but I'm ready to try. It is time. And...she really is good."

"Good at the _defense_ part, I hope, and not at the _Dark Arts_," the older witch said.

"I'm afraid my sister's _more than_ proficient at both," Andromeda said with a shudder—she remembered quite well the hexings she'd received from her younger sister while growing up. "But I promise you, Minerva," she continued quickly, "the Malfoys have changed." Then she frowned, wondering silently how she could really promise such a thing—she'd not actually had any _real_ contact with her sister's family—not ever. And, did letters really count? "But," she went on, "what I meant is that Narcissa is an excellent choice for the position, because she definitely knows the material and, believe it or not, she's remarkably good with children. I always thought it odd that she only had one of her own."

Arriving at the gargoyle that guarded the passage to her office, Minerva McGonagall said, "_Vincere clarus_," causing Andromeda to chuckle.

"Still?"

Minerva nodded. "Until something else fits...yes."

As the stones shifted, so that a staircase rose in front of them, the two women stepped forward, allowing the steps to rise, carrying them up upon them.

"I find it hard to believe you didn't tell her you'd be here as well, Andromeda," the headmistress said with a shake of her head, clearly disappointed. "I'm quite surprised."

Andromeda shrugged, attempting nonchalance though she was completely nonplused by the headmistress' obvious unhappiness. "I honestly thought it better this way, Minerva. As much as it seems Narcissa might want to reconnect with me, given my extreme resemblance to Bell...ah...our sister," she corrected, still, after all these years, shuddering at their dead sister's name—Bellatrix Lestrange had been a vicious lunatic. Shrugging again, she went on. "To be completely truthful, I don't know if she would have agreed to this if she'd known I'd also taken a position here."

"But it was _she_ who applied."

Andromeda nodded. "Yes...because I told her it might be a good..._diversion_, from her life at the manor. Merlin knows she needs it!" she said with a roll of her eyes.

"You are _much more_ Slytherin than you'd like to believe."

Andromeda's lips thinned as she chuckled. "Are you surprised, with a family like mine?"

"Absolutely not, Miss _Black_," Headmistress McGonagall replied, using the woman's maiden name.

Andromeda flashed a very Slytherin-like smirk, then switched to an equally Gryffindor smile.

Minerva's beady eyes narrowed further. "_You're_ dangerous!" she accused teasingly as she moved to sit behind her desk.

"I am not!" the dark-haired, formerly Black woman protested, sitting opposite the headmistress. "Bite your tongue!"

Minerva smiled. "All right, but what's to stop your sister from turning right around and leaving. That would be most inconvenient? I don't have time to acquire another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and I _really_ don't think the only other person I have in mind for the position is...ready."

"I'm afraid it _is_ a possibility," Andromeda said worriedly. "But I don't believe she'd do that to you. She's desperate to revive the Malfoy name, you see."

Minerva nodded.

"If only for her son."

"How is Draco?" Minerva asked, a bit of a wrinkle to her nose.

At this Andromeda shrugged. "I've still yet to meet my nephew, but Narcissa often writes about him...and his boy, Scorpius."

Minerva frowned.

"You see, we have been in contact through owl for the last decade, but...I've just not been able to make myself get together with my sister face to face. I really don't think she'll refuse the position on my account though."

Minerva's brow raised in consternation. "And you're choosing _today_ for a reunion? Here?"

Andromeda nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Isn't that..._dangerous_?"

Andromeda shook her head. "I don't believe so. Awkward, maybe, but not dangerous."

"Well, I'm not sure I would have hired her, had I been completely aware of the situation, and I hope you won't make a habit of this...I want full disclosure from here on out...but I suppose you know your sister enough to know what her reaction will be."

Andromeda bit her bottom lip worriedly. "Actually, I'm sorry to say that I really don't, Minerva. As you know, I was...disowned; like I said, I haven't seen or spoken to Narcissa in _years_."

"That's a _polite_ way of putting it," Minerva said dryly, then harrumphed. "_Disowned_, my foot! The Black family was _completely_ off their rocker! I saw that tapestry, you know...on one of my visits to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. You weren't just _disowned_, you were obliterated!"

Andromeda chuckled. "Yes...well, I wasn't the first Black to get blasted off that _blasted_ tapestry. Did you know that Harry's managed to gut the place?"

Minerva's brow shot up. "Really?"

Andromeda nodded. "It took him half a decade, but yes, he did it. Was the only way he'd get Ginny to live there. Why he insisted is beyond me," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But it must have had something to do with my cousin...though I don't fully understand that either since Sirius _hated_ that place. Anyway, Harry's had that nasty old tapestry restored to include all those who found themselves in disfavor, _and_ he found a way to shut Walburga up."

Chuckling, Minerva said, "_Impressive_...though, I'm not at all surprised Mr. Potter made such an accomplishment."

Andromeda nodded. "Yes, Harry's quite amazing. But, anyone able to silence that old windbag, moves up a few notches in my book. But...about Narcissa," she said, trying to bring them back from their tangent.

Minerva nodded, then frowned and sighed. "Well, it's too late to worry about her reaction now; she's due to arrive any minute."

"I do sincerely apologize, Minerva. I was under the impression that you knew about my...ahh...relationship with Narcissa."

"I just figured that, if you were recommending her for the position, then you'd probably been spending some time with her and knew where her heart lay. But, no matter...what's done is done."

And with that, the Floo blazed with a brilliant green light, alerting Minerva that the arrival of her new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was imminent. And when the flames had disappeared, a lovely blonde woman—medium-sized bag on her shoulder—stood there staring at them. But, seeing her sister in the room, her eyes instantly filled with fear. With a shocked gasp, coming from somewhere deep within, her knees buckled, sending her into the black oblivion of unconsciousness.

"Oh dear!" Minerva gasped as she and Andromeda instantly jumped to their feet and rushed forward. "Should I call Poppy?" the headmistress asked.

Kneeling, Andromeda shook her head. "I don't think so. She was just shocked. I...I should have told her," she said guiltily.

"_Drom_?" Narcissa whispered, her eyes fluttering open the moment Andromeda touched her.

"Yes, Ciss, tis I," Andromeda said. "Are you all right?"

Frowning, Narcissa blinked, then moved to sit up—then she nodded. "I believe so. W-why are you here?"

"I...I work here," Andromeda answered as she helped her sister to her feet.

"Professor Tonks teaches Transfiguration," Minerva added. "This will be her third year at Hogwarts."

Narcissa frowned. "I...I didn't know. All these years of letter-writing and you never told me." Narcissa was almost pouting, her blue eyes filled with hurt.

"I'm sorry," Andromeda said, "Are you too angry with me?"

Narcissa was still confused, but she shook her head. "No, of course not. I'm just...surprised, I suppose."

For several moments the sisters just stared at one another. Being in the same room after so very long was...surreal...to say the least, but at least they weren't ripping each other's heads off.

"So...ladies...shall we sit?" Minerva finally interrupted the silence.

**XxXxXxX**

Walking side by side in the castle, after so many years of separation, was most bizarre, but, though she remembered quite well where Slytherin House was, Narcissa was pleased that Andromeda had continued from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom—and what would be Narcissa's private offices—on the first floor down into the sub-levels, only stopping when they reached the entrance to Slytherin House.

"I'll leave you here," Andromeda said with a nod at the door.

Frowning, Narcissa said, "I'd like to take a look about, since I haven't seen the place in...a very long time...but, you are welcome to come in."

Andromeda glanced at the door. "Ahh...no...I don't think so. Slytherin is not my house."

Narcissa sighed. "No, I don't suppose it is. You and Sirius always were...different."

Not sure how to respond, Andromeda nodded.

"Is there as password?" Narcissa asked.

Andromeda smirked. "When you set one there will be. Do try to make it something pleasant."

"Surely you're not serious," the blonde said with a roll of her blue eyes.

"Well, 'pure-blood' is rather obvious, don't you think?"

Narcissa snorted. "I wouldn't do that."

Andromeda shrugged. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time," she said as she turned to go.

"Wait!" Narcissa burst, her hand snaking out to grab her sister's robes. "How...how can I find you?"

"I've had Minerva connect your office Floo to mine, so I'll be available during office hours...but I do put a ward up when I'm not in the office. And, of course I'll see you at mealtimes."

Narcissa nodded. "Thank you...Dromeda."

Andromeda pursed her lips. "You're welcome, Cissa," she said. Then, after a short pause she went on. "I hate all that happened, and I know most of it wasn't your fault, but...this is going to take some time."

"I know."

"Our sister _murdered_ my daughter," Andromeda blurted after another pause.

Narcissa's eyes went wide. She hadn't known and hadn't bothered to ask. "I'm sorry," she squeaked.

Andromeda shrugged. "It's been ten years now and I miss Nymphadora every single day."

Narcissa bit her lip, her thoughts going to her own son and how desperately she'd worried about him that day ten years ago—and to what it would be like had she lost him. Instantly, her heart swelled with sympathy.

"But I've missed you, Cissa," Andromeda admitted. "It's been so long, but I _have_ missed you...more than you could ever know."

Narcissa's blue eyes filled with tears. "As have I, Drom."

Andromeda searched her sister's face for deception and decided there was none. She would never understand the choices Narcissa had made during the war—or prior to it—but she'd never stopped loving her; she was, after all, her sister—and she definitely _wasn't_ Bellatrix!

* * *

**Post Script**

Yeah, yeah, I know, Lucius is a whack-job. LOL. I love writing unbalanced people. I was once told that I write very good crazy. *grin*

Okay...so...yes, I know that Bellatrix called Narcissa "Cissy"...and I'm purposely having Andromeda call her "Cissa" instead. But...either way, they're all kinds of fucked up, huh?


	15. Diagon Alley Part I

**Author's Note**

Hey there...sorry readers...I know it's taken me _forever_ to post another chapter, but...umm...yeah! I have to admit I've just been lazy. I've been _reading_ fan fics instead of writing my own. I know, no excuse! *sigh*

So...this chapter. Well, I'd originally planned to put all six "Snape" kids visiting Diagon Alley in one chapter, but...well...this chapter is horrendously LONG, so...you only get Hunter and Savannah.

Anyway...here it is...enjoy!

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**Word Count: **5,861

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**Diagon Alley** (Part I)

**Still Monday, 25 August, 2008**

"No, Ronald," Hermione said exasperatedly; she felt like she'd been repeating herself all morning. "I promised my cousin I'd come alone." Then, with a frown, she went on. "And don't think you and Harry can just show up at Diagon Alley for some imagined needed item...or lunch. _Or_ a visit with George," she added when she saw that her husband was actually considering another reason to go there—he was so...easily read.

"But I wanna meet her, 'Mione," Ron Weasley all but whined.

"I know." Hermione _did_ know this. How could she not; he'd told her _at least_ five times in the last few minutes, but she was between a rock and a hard place. "I have to respect my cousin's wishes, Ron."

Ron frowned. "Out of nowhere, you suddenly have a _bloody _cousin, and I want to meet the woman. Where's the harm in that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and silently counted to ten before continuing. "There's no harm, Ron..._except_ that Holly's asked for some time." Then, moving toward the man, she gently plopped their brand new bundled of joy onto his lap and continued quickly—because it was obvious he was opening his mouth to give further protest. "I know you want to meet her. Everyone does. _Everyone's_ curious, but...everyone'll have to wait. Holly's asked for some time and we're going to give it to her. You _must know_ how overwhelming all this is for her."

Ron gave her a blank look; apparently he _didn't_ know.

"Well, obviously she's feeling very torn," she said—then went on when the man's confusion didn't seem to go away. "Torn between the Muggle world she's always known and the realization that her children are magical. And then I expect her heart's aching at the thought of having her children taken from her for the next ten months. And then she's worried that they'll get hurt by things she really can't understand," she said, her thoughts going to how devastated her cousin must have been to lose her husband—git that he was—and not really know what happened and why. "Not to mention moving back to London after nearly a decade of living half the world away. Talk about stressful. I can imagine she's a bit depressed too...she's going to be so lonely."

"Do you really think one person could be feeling all that at once?" Ron asked, his brows pinched together in consternation.

"Do you _really_ still have the emotional range of a teaspoon, Ronald?" Hermione asked with exasperation.

Ron blinked, then grinned sheepishly—then stood up, baby Hugo cradled in the crook of his arm. "I really don't think there'd be any harm in me accompanying you. We could make it a family day. Or...I could meet her, then go see George and Angelina at the shop."

"Maybe next time, Ron," Hermione said as she reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. Then turning away she went on. "Besides, Rose and Hugo will need a nap shortly, so you need to stay home while I take Holly and the twins to Diagon Alley for the first time." She didn't mention that her cousin had said something about being there before—and with Snape, no less. She still shuddered at the thought that her cousin had actually married and had children with her least favorite professor—second least; Trelawny might actually be her _least_ favorite—from Hogwarts, but she'd promised to keep Holly's private life _private_—for the time being—so she said nothing. Not that it would stay private, because, as soon as people saw Holly's twins, they were going to know—or at least suspect.

Ron eyed her suspiciously. "What aren't you telling me, 'Mione?" he asked after a short pause.

Hermione frowned. "Well, there _is_ something, but...I promised not to tell. It's not my secret to tell and, to be honest, I don't know how I managed to get sucked into this. Except for the fact that Holly's my cousin, I'm unsure how Minerva was even _able_ to tell m—"

At this point Hermione's voice seized—she couldn't say a thing further.

Staring at her, Ron waited—then frowned when she didn't continue. "'_Mione_?"

"I...I _can't_, Ronald."

Suddenly, his forehead smoothed. "It's like Grimmauld Place, huh?"

Her jaw clenched, Hermione tried to nod and couldn't manage even that. Instead she blinked, then took a deep breath.

"All right. Fine."

Letting out a long sigh, Hermione said, "I _want_ to tell you, Ron."

He nodded. "I know."

Still frustrated, Hermione turned and headed for the door.

"Aren't you going to Floo over?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. We can't connect our Floo to Holly's yet, so I'll have to drive."

"The _car_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Yes, Ronald. I _do have_ a license you know."

"I need to get one of those," he said absently.

"Yeah right!" she said with a snort. "The only way _you'll_ pass that test is if you Confund the examiner."

Ron frowned. "Hey! That's not fair. I've read that little bit of a book you brought home from the Muggle Car Licensing Department."

"Yes, yes, I know," Hermione said, picking up a set of keys as she approached their front door. "And the place is called the D.V.L.A, Ron. That's _Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency_, not Muggle Car Licensing Department."

"Whatever," he said with a dismissive wave of his free hand. Then following her, Ron asked, "What time will you be home?"

"In time to feed Hugo," she answered. "I just fed him, so he should be all right for maybe four hours. If he gets fussy, there're two bottles of milk ready to warm. Please make sure the milk's not too hot."

Ron nodded, but he looked nervous.

Sighing, Hermione hugged her husband. "Hugo's not our first baby, Ronald, why are you so nervous?"

Ron's brows pulled together over his blue eyes. "Was Rosie ever this small?" he asked as he looked down at baby Hugo.

Chuckling, Hermione nodded. "How soon we forget," she said, then hugged him again. "Floo your mother if you have any questions. She's an expert!"

"No way!" he said, obviously affronted by the idea that he'd _need_ help—if Harry could take care of three, then he could certainly manage two. "I can do this."

Hermione smiled. "Fine then. Good. Four-ish hours," she reminded him. Then she hurried out.

**XxXxXxX**

Holly sat nervously in the same small house she'd lived in when she'd met Severus Snape, waiting for her cousin Hermione to pick her up. She'd offered to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron, but Hermione would have none of it—she'd insisted on picking her up. Of course, Holly'd had to remind her of the address—several times actually—because, though Hermione had been there on numerous occasions while growing up, the Fidelius Charm apparently made it impossible for her to find it on her own. Funny thing was, Holly didn't think that even _she_ should have been able give Hermione the address, since she wasn't the Secret Holder—or whatever it was that they'd called it—and all, but...well...obviously something was wrong with that whole thing.

She didn't like this. Something didn't feel right.

Terrified, though she'd been told there was no reason to be, she got up and started pacing.

"_Mom_?"

Glancing up, Holly saw that her children were watching her—and she felt bad for worrying them. This was all so very new to them too and she didn't want them worrying about _her_ when they had so many new things to face.

"It'll be okay, mom. Relax," Hunter said as Savannah came up and slipped her arms around her.

Nodding, Holly squeezed her daughter, then turned her attention from her children to the front of the house—where she heard a car pulling up.

"Cousin Hermione's here, mom," Savvy said. She'd crossed the room and was peeking outside. "Should we go out?"

Holly frowned, then nodded. Grabbing her things, she led her children outside.

**XxXxX**

"I would have come in," Hermione offered after driving in silence for a time. She'd _wanted_ to go in, hoping it would help her remember the place for next time, but it was obvious her cousin was far from ready.

"And _I_ would have met you _there_," Holly snarked.

Hermione's brow raised—Holly clearly wasn't happy about today's events. Glancing at the Hunter and Savannah in the back seat—she could tell they looked nervous; no doubt because their mother wasn't in the greatest of moods—she smiled at them.

"So, mom told us you had a boy," Savvy said after a few minutes of awkward silence.

Her eyes shining, Hermione nodded. "Yes. Maybe you'll be able to come see him soon," she said to the girl. "Before he gets too big...they grow so fast, you know. And Rosie too; she's two now." Then smiling at the boy who looked _almost_ like an exact replica of his father, she went on. "And my husband, Ron...he's dying to meet you guys." Then winking, she said, "Almost had to hex him to keep him home today."

Hunter and Savannah giggled—when Hermione had visited them in the States, she'd performed a few hexes for them and they'd loved it—but Holly didn't look at all pleased.

"I'm _teasing_, Holly," she said. "The only time I've ever hexed Ron was in our fifth year when we were practicing for Dumbledore's Army...and he _so_ deserved it!"

Holly's eyes widened considerable—she was absolutely _not_ reassured by the word _army_.

"It was a club we formed to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts, not a _real_ army," Hermione tried to explain as she glanced sideways at Holly. Though it was _essentially_ the truth, if only partially, she didn't explain further—she didn't think her cousin was ready for more. "But Ron _does_ want to meet you all," she said, her eyes going back to the rear-view mirror and her cousin's children. "He spent the morning pestering me about it, actually."

Turning to look out the window, Holly nodded, but couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"It sure is weird, driving on the wrong side of the road," Hunter commented after another lengthy pause.

"Hey!" burst Hermione, with mock offense. "We're on the right side...just not the _right_ side."

The children grinned—even Holly found humor in this.

"So, ready for some shopping?" Hermione asked as she pulled her car into the car park.

Both children nodded. Though they'd practically memorized their lists, they had them out and were studying them—again!

"Can we buy all this stuff in London?" Hunter asked skeptically.

Hermione grinned. "We certainly can...if you know where to go," she said as she got out of the car. "Which I _do_, of course. We're going to Diagon Alley."

"We can get all this stuff in an alley?" Savannah queried with a frown.

Hermione laughed. "Well, it's not an ordinary alley."

Sighing, Holly got out. Then, after swinging the car door closed, she flung the long, midnight blue robe she'd purchased over a decade ago over her jeans and t-shirt—which caused Hermione's brow to shoot up. "I've been here before, cousin," she said stiffly. "Remember?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, you said that, but...seeing you in _that_, makes it all the more real." Linking her arm through Holly's as they walked, she leaned in and whispered, "I can't believe you _married_ that man." Then she gave a teasing shudder.

This made Holly chuckle. "Don't let the twins hear you say things like that," she chided quietly, her eyes going back to her children—they were following along, their noses buried in their letters, and giggling over...something.

Hermione pursed her lips. "Of course not; I wouldn't do that." Then, after a short pause, she went on. "He was a hero, you know? A vital part of our side winning the war...we just didn't know it until the war had ended."

Holly nodded—she had to blink back tears. "That's what they told me."

Squeezing her cousin briefly—lovingly—Hermione opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron and gestured for them to enter ahead of her. Quickly, they walked in and carefully weaved through the crowd—it was busier than usual, Hermione noted; probably since the new school year began the following week—and then walked out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hunter frowned. "What's this place?" he asked curiously.

"The entrance," Holly mumbled as Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped—three up...two across—on what looked like a plain brick wall.

Watching as the bricks Hermione touched quivered, then wriggled a bit, Hunter and Savannah's eyes went wide when a small hole appeared, then grew wider—and wider—until, a second later, they were facing an archway large enough for them all to walk through, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome, children," said Hermione, a wide grin on her face as she held out a hand for the children to proceed them, "to Diagon Alley."

Amazed, Hunter and Savannah, with their hands clasped, stepped out into a bright new world which was bustling with energetic, cloak-wearing, witches and wizards going about their daily business. Their eyes wide, they let their gaze scan the narrow street, then they grinned and looked back at their mother and her cousin.

"First things first." Her wand still out, Hermione pointed it at their Hogwarts lists and said, "_Transcribo_." Instantly, and with a flourish of light, the list in Hunter's hand became two—and Hermione reached out and took one of them. "All right. I think uniforms should be first. What do you think?"

"Actually, we need to stop at Gringotts first," Holly said.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh."

Holly smiled. "Unless you think the shops here will take my Muggle money."

Hermione laughed. "No. They won't," she said as she once again linked her arm through Holly's and started down the street—the children following, their eyes roving all over the place. "I guess I didn't think about you having an account there," she went on.

"It was Severus', but most of his estate went to me when he...when he was killed."

Hermione nodded—then she frowned. "_Most_?"

Holly bit her lip, then glanced back at her son and daughter to make sure they were occupied—they were standing in front of a shop looking at the broom hovering in the window. "Severus...he had another child...before mine."

Hermione's eyes became saucers—then she giggled; she couldn't imagine Professor Snape with _one_ child, let alone _three_. "Oh. So...what...umm...do you have...more business at Gringotts?"

Holly nodded. "I've been conducting it through Muggle letters—which, let me just tell you, is a pain in the arse!—but I'd like to transfer a decent sum into the boy's account."

Hermione frowned. "That's very nice of you."

Holly shrugged. "I think Severus left the woman his childhood home, but...Septima once let it slip that the boy's mother, though she came from quite the well-to-do family, was sort of a black sheep."

Hermione gave a slight nod. "Must be a squib," she said with a sigh—then she frowned. "Septima _Vector_?" she asked, knowing that was the surname the witch taught under, though her married name was Avery.

Holly nodded, which caused Hermione to laugh.

"You sure know _a lot_ of witches and wizards for a Muggle. Who else do you know?"

"Well, besides, Severus and Minerva and Septima, I've only met a few others. Remus once brought me here."

"_Lupin_? You knew Remus?" Hermione asked with surprise.

Holly nodded. "Yes. Like I said, he helped me come here. Severus was became _very_ upset when he found out about that." Smiling at the memory, Holly sighed.

"I can imagine," Hermione whispered. "He was a werewolf, you know? Remus Lupin, I mean."

Holly blinked in shock—she had no knowledge that werewolves existed and wondered about all the other horrific things that she'd always thought only existed in books and movies. "No. I had no idea."

"Severus and Remus had quite a past," Hermione went on. "I'm not at all surprised Severus didn't want you spending time with Remus."

Holly frowned, more confused than ever. "Remus also witnessed our marriage. _And_, he and Nyphadora were both involved in protecting my house." Then, her eyes filling, she continued. "It was...devastating to learn that they too had been killed in the war."

Hermione nodded again, then let out a painful sigh. "Yes. So many were lost," she said, tears in her eyes too. "My husband lost a brother."

"Oh! I'm so sorry."

Hermione nodded. "Fred and his twin, George, were inseparable; it was...awful."

Holly didn't know what to say. "I guess that's why I'm so...scared, Hermione," she whispered. "What if...what if I lose my children?"

Hermione looked over at Hunter and Savannah—they were still looking at the newest racing broom in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies—then back at her cousin. "I won't lie to you, Holly, there's always danger, but...the war's ended. Voldemort is dead and gone and he's _not_ coming back this time."

Holly nodded. "I get that, I do, but..." She shook her head. "I can't help being scared. They're all I have."

"I know," Hermione whispered.

**XxXxX**

After a stop at Gringotts, they headed to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and were greeted by Madam Malkin herself as they entered the establishment.

"Come, come," the squat, smiling, mauve-covered, witch said before they could speak. "Got the Hogwarts lot here, dears. We'll get you two fitted up right quick."

Hustling the four of them to the back of the shop, the woman pointed at two stools and said, "Up, up!"

Smiling at each other, the twins scrambled up, eagerly following the woman's instructions.

"My assistant has gone to lunch, so...ladies first," the witch said as she slipped a long robe over Savannah's head, and began to pin it to the right length. In moments she was finished and moved on to Hunter—then said, "That's you done, my dear," she said, then looked at the women. "All right, three sets of robes each and one pointed hat each. The hats on there," she pointed. "You'll have to take those..._things_ off your heads, to try on hats."

Sheepishly, both Hunter and Savannah pulled off their baseball caps and picked up the "hats" they were supposed to try on.

Savannah burst into giggles, then said, "Dude, you look totally _ridiculous_ in that thing, Hunt."

Hunter glanced at himself in the mirror and frowned. "Hard to look cool in _this_, huh? Mom, do we have to get these?" he asked.

Holly smiled. She had to admit they looked funny, but...it was on the list of things to buy, so... "I'm sorry, but...yes."

Groaning, the twins pulled the hats from their heads and rolled their identical black eyes.

"Don't worry, everyone else will be wearing them too," Hermione put in, "so you won't look out of place."

"Oh _great_," Hunter said, "an entire school of kids wearing matching black dunce caps...makes me feel _so_ much better."

Savannah giggled at this.

"I think they looked rather nice, actually," said Madam Malkin, "with your black eyes and all that black hair."

Realizing they were being rude, the twins blushed and managed a polite smile.

"Anyway," Hermione cut in, "you'll get used to them."

"Now," Madam Malkin went on, "you'll have to decide on protective gloves. Most like the dragon hide, because it's the best, but...they _are_ the most expensive."

Holly nodded. She'd read the supply list and hadn't really considered that "dragon hide or similar" really meant _dragon_hide. "D-dragon hide is...fine," she said, not caring about the cost—she had more money, both Muggle and wizarding, than she knew what to do with.

The older witch nodded and pointed so that Hunter and Savannah would know which gloves to look at and choose from, then looked at Holly. "How many sets of uniforms would you like for them?"

Holly frowned. "Well I...I don't know," she said, her eyes going to her cousin.

"At least five sets for each," said Hermione. "Shirts, jumpers, trousers, socks...though, Savannah might want skirts _and_ trousers, so you might want to get her a few extras."

"_Argh_! No! No _skirts_, mom," Savannah said, her nose wrinkled with disgust, which caused her mother to chuckle and her cousin to smile.

"All the first-year girls wear them, Savannah," Hermione said.

Savannah snorted. "Well, _I_ don't."

"How about one...just in case?" her mother coaxed.

Savannah rolled her eyes, then shrugged. "All right. Fine. Whatever. But only _one_."

Holly smiled and nodded—and picked out three—then went to the shelves where there was black scarf upon black scarf piled in neatly. "What is it with all the _sodding_ black? My _God_, their father never wore anything else. It's...gastly!"

This caused Hermione to break into laughter. "Isn't _that_ the truth," she said, but scooped up several scarves that, to Holly, all looked the same. "They'll shift to House colors after the twins are sorted. This one," she pointed, "has thin stripes, and _this one_ wide."

Holly leaned in to look and nodded when she saw the slightly different stitch.

"Watch," Hermione went on. Then, unfurling a scarf, she slung it around her own neck and it instantly changed from all black to red and gold. "I was in Gryffindor House, so any Hogwarts scarf that _I_ put on instantly changes to scarlet and gold."

Holly grinned. "That's...brilliant!" Frightened though she was, she was still intrigued by all the new things she was learning.

Hermione nodded her agreement. "Their ties will do the same."

"Oh mom, _ties_?" Hunter complained. He didn't like wearing ties at all, only wearing them when he were forced to dress up for something fancy—he was much like his sister, where she hated dresses and skirts, he hated ties and dress-up clothing of any kind.

"If I have to wear a lame skirt, then you can survive a tie," Savannah said with a giggle as she picked up an all black tie and held it to her brother's neck.

"Don't get too happy about Hunter's ties, Savannah," Hermione cut in. "You'll have to wear them too."

Savannah's eyes widened. "You're not serious?"

"I'm afraid so."

"But...I'm a girl."

"Sorry."

Hunter laughed at this and received a glare from his sister.

**XxXxX**

"All right. Let's head on over to Ollivander's," Hermione said as she led them down the street. "Ollivander's is...umm...well...barking mad actually, but...well, he's still the best maker of wands."

Both Hunter and Savannah grinned. They didn't care if this Ollivander person ran naked down Diagon Alley, as long as they got to have a wand.

At the furthest end from where they'd entered Diagon Alley, its golden letters over the door peeling, Ollivander's was one of the last shops on the right. It was a narrow and rather shabby-looking shop with a single wand lying on a faded purple cushion on the dusty window ledge, but a tinkling bell rang cheerfully when they pushed the door open and entered—and they were greeted by an old man with crazed silvery eyes.

"Good afternoon," he said, his voice soft as he looked the foursome over. "Ahh...Miss Granger...so good to see you again. Dragon heartstring encased in vine wood. Did you ever get your wand back?"

Hermione frowned. "Umm...no sir," she said, remembering how her first wand had been taken by Greyback and the snatchers during the war.

"You're not still using that...that _woman's_ wand, are you?" the man asked, his teething grinding with disgust. "Twelve and a half inches long, unyielding, made of walnut."

Hermione shuddered at the reference to Bellatrix Lestrange and the wand she'd used for a time. "No sir, I'm not. Don't you remember me coming in to buy a new wand shortly after the war?"

Ollivander's brow furrowed. "You got married, dear...yes?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir...to Ronald Weasley."

Mr. Ollivander nodded. "I do seem to remember that, but...what do we have here?" he asked, his eyes going to the children.

"This is my cousin, sir...and these are her children. They're here to find wands."

"Ah yes," the old man said. "Yes, yes, of course, but...I don't sell wands anymore Miss Granger."

Hermione tried not to smile. "No, sir, of course you don't, but...we still need wands. Is...your grandson here?" she asked as she leaned over the counter and peered into the dark aisle.

The old man frowned and started to shake his head, but was interrupted.

"Grandfather," a younger man said, "your tea is ready."

Ollivander Senior glanced at his grandson, then back at the woman. "I remember every wand I've ever sold," he said proudly, then shuffled out of the room.

"Sorry 'bout that," said the younger wand-maker when the door had closed behind his grandfather. "My grandfather's been through a lot." Then he frowned. "But then, you know that quite well, don't you, Mrs. Weasley?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, we all have."

"So, what do we have here today?" the man asked.

"I've brought my cousin, Holly and her children," Hermione said.

"Ahh...starting at Hogwarts on Monday, are we?" he asked the boy and girl.

Hunter and Savannah both nodded enthusiastically.

"Well now, Miss...?"

"Snape," Savannah provided.

The man's eyes instantly went to the two women, a meaningful look passing between them. "I see. Well, Miss Snape, let me see," he said as he pulled from his pocket a long tape measure with silver markings. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Umm. I'm right-handed, sir," Savannah answered.

"Hold out your arm, young lady," he instructed—then proceeded to measure the girl from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round the head.

This caused Savannah to glance at her brother—who was snickering—and smile. Why the man was measuring her head to fit a wand was beyond them.

"_Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance_, young lady. We used to only use_ unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feather, and the heartstrings of dragons_, but we've recently branched out a little," he said, his eyes going to Hermione. "There's a large herd of centaurs in the Forbidden Forest who, from time to time, so graciously consent to giving up a few precious tail hairs. Firenze most often, but sometimes some of the others can be persuaded as well. And we have one hippogriff that willingly offers feathers here and there. And then there are the wands with thestral-hair cores. Tenebrus is quite happy to donate hairs, but...well...you understand they _are_ difficult to acquire...since not many people can see them and all. Hagrid usually helps with that though," he went on. "Mind you, _no two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, phoenixes,_ centaurs, hippogriffs, or thestrals _are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another witch or wizard's wand._"

Frowning, because the tape measure seemed to be measuring things that just couldn't _possibly_ have anything to do with wand-choosing, Savannah glanced at her grinning brother, then at the proprietor of the shop.

"_That will do_," he said, then pointed at Hunter and the tape measure went to work on him while the man addressed the girl. "All right then, Miss Snape. Try this one. Rosewood and dragon heartstring. Nine and three quarter inches. Quite inflexible. Take it and give it a wave."

Gingerly taking the wand from the man, Savannah did what he said—but nothing happened.

"All right," he said, then handed her another. "That one's walnut and centaur hair, and—"

WHOOSH!—all the lighting in the establishment went out.

"Umm. No, that's not right," the man said. Taking out his own wand, he relit the place, then took the wand back from Savannah and frowned. Then, glancing at Hermione, he said, "You're cousins?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, this is Holly—their mum."

The man nodded, then rummaged around, then came out with another box. "Try this," he said. "Vine wood and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Very—"

Again he couldn't finish, because the wand in Savannah's hand started to vibrate—then it flew from her hand and violently stuck itself two inches into the far wall.

"All right then," the man said with a chuckle. "I guess not." Then, looking several boxes over, he smiled and glanced at the girl's mother. "Hmm. I wonder. How about..._this_!" he said, presenting the girl with yet another wand. "Holly with a single thestral hair. Nine and three quarter inches. Supple."

Smiling nervously, Savannah took the wand, but didn't really expect much—then grinned because she felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. And then her wrist, her elbow, and her shoulder—where it spread out and warmed her entire body. "I feel..._something_," she said excitedly. "I don't know what it is, but it's...weird. And cool at the same time. Wow..." She let her words trail off as she watched a stream of blue and golden yellow sparks erupt from the end of her wand like fireworks.

The wand-maker nodded. "I think we found your wand, Miss Snape. Not exactly what I was expecting, but...not surprising either." Then he looked at the girl's mother. "I'm afraid I'm quite embarrassed to admit that I don't know what your wand is."

Holly blushed. "Oh. I don't have a wand, sir. I'm...a Muggle."

"_Really_?"

Holly nodded.

"Are you sure?" he pressed.

Holly glanced at her cousin, then back at the man—then shrugged and said, "Always have been."

"Humph! That's...interesting," he said, then looked at the woman's son. "Your turn, Mr. Snape."

Smiling, the boy stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Let's start with the same wand I first gave your sister, young man," he said, "since it's still sitting here."

Hunter nodded.

"Grasp it firmly and give it a wave," the man instructed—then blanched when the boy did, because the front window exploded out onto the street.

"Oh bugger and blast!" Mr. Ollivander growled.

"I'm sorry, sir," Hunter said fearfully. "I didn't mean to—"

"No, no, not your fault at all, Mr. Snape. It happens sometimes—wands can be extremely temperamental. It's just that I _just_ repaired that window yesterday," the man tried to explain, then sighed. "I should just leave it until this week was over. This sort of things happens more often the week before school starts, with all you young people coming in to get wands for the first time." He chuckled at his own stupidity, then pulled out his own wand again and said, "_Fenestra reparo_!" and watched the window repair itself. "See, all fixed. Now," he went on as he took the destructive wand from Hunter. "Where were we? Ahh, yes. You two are twins?" he asked the blacked-haired children.

They nodded.

Then, looking at the boy's mother, he said, "And Mrs. Snape...your given name is Holly?"

Holly's brows pinched together in confusion, but she nodded. "Yes, sir."

"You know what then, let us be smart about this." Turning the wand-maker disappeared—but quickly returned. "Since it worked for your sister, young man, try this one. _Holly_ and hippogriff feather. Eleven and three quarter inches. Nice and supple."

Taking the wand, Hunter shivered as a tingling feeling instantly radiated up his arm and into his shoulder. For a moment he just stood there, adjusting to the foreign sensation, then he moved his hand slightly, causing his own display of fireworks—this time red and brownish in color.

"Look, mom!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Holly nodded, smiling at her son's exuberance.

"It's not always easy to find a perfect match...some customers are quite tricky," Mr. Ollivander told them. "But, eventually, we always find a witch or wizard for every wand."

Savannah frowned. "Shouldn't it be the other way around, sir...witches and wizards choosing _their wands_?" she asked.

The man smiled. "You would think so, but no," he said with a shake of his head. "You see, the wand chooses the witch or wizard, young lady. Almost anyone can take your wand from you, if he or she is halfway decent with their spell-casting...but _using_ your wand, especially against its original owner, can be tricky. Would you agree, Mrs. Weasley?"

Hermione nodded. "Most definitely."

"See," the man said, "And that's coming from the smartest witch of her age."

Both Hunter and Savannah's eyes opened wide. "You're _that_ good?" they asked their cousin in unison.

Hermione blushed, then shrugged. "I'm all right," she said modestly.

"Pfft! Don't you listen to her," the man said. "Received an Order of Merlin, first class, for her part in the war, she did. She—"

"All right," Hermione cut in, her face a bright shade of red. "It's time to visit Flourish & Blotts."

Smiling at her cousin's discomfiture, Holly paid Mr. Ollivander for the wands—ten gold Galleons each—then hurried her children from his shop.

**XxXxX**

They'd managed to get through Flourish & Blotts quickly—though everything seemed to be stacked haphazardly, everything was arranged by year, making it quite easy to get in and out in a timely manner so that they could meet Hermione at the entrance to Diagon Alley, where she'd gone into both the Apothecary and the cauldron shop and purchased the rest of what the twins would need to start their first year.

"Are you still intending to get an owl?" Hermione asked Hunter when they met up again.

Hunter frowned. "Naw, I don't think so. With so much changing, I'd miss my cat if I left him at home."

Hermione nodded. "I can understand that. Owls are extremely popular, but there's nothing like cuddling your cat." Then she frowned and looked at her cousin. "Though, Holly, if money's not an issue, you should get yourself an owl so you can send messages to Hunter and Savannah. They're very handy. And they don't really _need_ one, because they can always use school owls."

"But we have our cell phones," Savannah said.

Hermione snorted. "Good luck getting a mobile to work from Hogwarts."

"You mean...I won't be able to talk to my friends from home while I'm at school?" Savannah asked, her voice near panic.

Hermione laughed, as did Holly and Hunter. "Sorry, honey, but...probably not. There are wards all around the castle that keep some things in and some things out. And, our magic seems to disrupt most Muggle devices."

Savannah pouted. "Well that...sucks!"

Holly chuckled. "It's not the end of the world, Sav."

Savannah sighed. "I know, but it'll be...weird."

"So," Hermione said to direct them back to their previous conversation, "what do you think about getting an owl?"

It only took Holly a moment to consider it, then she shrugged and nodded. "All right."

Hermione grinned. "Fantastic! Let's go into Eeylops Owl Emporium...they have a _huge_ selection. And then we need to eat...I'm starving!"

In Eeylops, Holly chose a handsome Bengal Eagle Owl—and then they went into the Leaky Cauldron for a meal before going home.

* * *

**Author's Post Script**

Okay...glad that's over. Tried to make Hunter and Savannah's first visit to Diagon Alley very much like Harry's was...minus Hagrid and plus Hermione! =)

Further note...if you see thing underlined, TELL ME, because NOTHING should be underlined...GRRRRRR!

**Latin** (I spent time looking these up, but could be wrong...I hope I'm not)**:**

_Transcribo_ - copy (or duplicate)

_Fenestra reparo_ - window repair (like _occulus reparo)_


	16. Diagon Alley Part II

**Author's Note**

**Hey all!** Just thought I'd pop in with a new chapter...since it's been _forever_ and a day (exactly two and half months, I believe) since I've posted a new chapter. *sigh* This chapter has been finished for about two months, but I've been working on something else and was too lazy to post it. *rolls eyes* Don't you just hate that. Anyway, here you go...**chapter sixteen**!

* * *

**Word Count: **5,044

* * *

**Diagon Alley** (Part II)

**Wednesday, 27 August, 2008  
**

_This is it_! Septima thought to herself as she pulled on her favorite robes and donned its matching conical hat. They were a deep red, so dark they were almost black—both the robes and hat—and velvety soft, broken-in to a point that made them extremely comfortable without showing any signs of needing replacement. She was both ready for this day—and not—and craved the comfort and privacy—and security—of home, though she knew she could not have it on this day.

"It will all work itself out, love," her husband said, his tone meant to reassure.

Septima turned to look at the man. He was sitting in his favorite chair—which he'd once again transfigured so that it was a hideous shade of green—on his side of their shared bedroom, smiling lovingly at her.

"We always knew this day would come," he went on.

Septima frowned, her brown eyes troubled by his lackadaisical demeanor. "Maybe we should have been up front from the start."

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Seveena's angry."

The man chuckled. "When _isn't_ Seveena angry?"

"No. _This time_ she's _furious_."

"Do you blame her?"

Septima shook her head. "Not at all."

"There's _one_ good thing," he said—then continued on when his wife looked at him quizzically. "At least she didn't throw anything at us."

Septima snorted. "_Yet_."

"Touché," the man said with a lazy smile as he thought about the many things Seveena Ispwich Avery had thrown over the years. "Let's just hope she remembers it's against the rules to destroy the family heirlooms."

Septima flashed her husband a withering look. "Cyrus! You're _not_ helping!"

Chuckling again, the man stood up and crossed the room. Slipping his arms around his wife, he leaned in and kissed her exposed—and quite delectable—neck, then pulled her in so that she was pressed firmly against his broad chest. "Relax, darling, there's nothing we can do _now_ about the choices we made _years_ ago. We chose to keep this from them and now we're all paying. But at least we had eleven years of peace, yes?"

"Hmm. A calm before the storm?"

"_Exactly_," he agreed—then he sighed. "You're probably right though; we should not have been so selfish."

"What'll we do?" Septima asked. "Seveena's angry, Septimus is confused, and Sevaria's hurt beyond belief. And we've yet to tell Cydrella."

"Cyd'll be fine, love," he said as he kissed his wife's forehead.

"Of course she will! _She's_ not being told that she's not really your daughter," Septima said in a huff.

"The triplets may not be _biologically_ mine, dear, but they _are_ mine...in my heart. I've raised them and I'm not going to stop loving them just because they now know the truth...even if they fight us on it."

Septima nodded. "Of course you won't. I'm just saying..." She paused, then pushed away and threw her arms up in the air. "Oh. I don't know what I'm saying!"

Grabbing his wife, Cyrus gave her another loving squeeze, then pushed her away slightly and grasped her by her upper arms. "Septima, darling, we made a grievous mistake and the days to come are going to be...difficult. But we'll work through it. The children will see that nothing's changed...not really. So what if I'm not the man who created them. I'm _still_ the man who's been there for them their entire lives, and I will continue to be. I'm the man who's bounced them on my knees, carried them on my shoulders, and kissed their many wounds. Yes, they're upset...they have a right to be...but they'll get over it."

"Do you think so?" she almost whined.

Kissing her nose, Cyrus nodded, then hugged her again. "Yes, love."

"I don't know why you put up with me," Septima said with sigh.

"You know the answer to that," the man said. "It's because I _utterly_ adore you. I've _always_ adored you, Septima. Do you remember when we were children and our families would get together during the holidays?"

Septima, her face turning pink, nodded into his chest. "Of course. I used to pretend we were married."

Cyrus grinned. "I knew it was wrong, since our parents were cousins, but...every year I'd wish that someday you'd be mine. You'll never know how happy I was when you accepted my proposal."

Septima frowned. They _had_ caused quite a stir. It wasn't really uncommon for pure-blood families to intermarry, but not usually so closely—not that it hadn't happened before; Sirius Black's parents had been first cousins, at least she and Cyrus were only second cousins. It was pretty scary, actually, how interwoven the pure-blood families were; not many of them were _unrelated_, to be honest.

"I always loved you too, Cyrus," she admitted.

"Yes, so much so that you married that _Vector_ character, then took up with Severus Snape," he complained—though in a teasing manner. He'd long since gotten over being jealous of two dead men.

Leaning back, Septima slapped playfully at his chest. "Well _you_ went off to bed that Bulgarian witch the year you finished at Hogwarts, leaving me to the wolves."

He laughed.

"And then you went traipsing all over the Near East, for Merlin knows how long, gathering your own harem of women, I presume."

Cyrus chuckled. "You _know_ that's not how it was. I was in hiding."

"So...there were _not_ hordes of women at your disposal?" she asked.

"Do I _have _to answer that question?"

"So I married Felix," she went on without answering—because she didn't really care, because they'd both lived their lives separately until they'd come together again. "He was a good man."

"Yes, you must have liked him very much...since you're _still_ using his name."

"Only at Hogwarts," she said defensively. "Besides, it coincides with my area of study."

He snorted. "Excuses, excuses," he teased. Their children had asked—a few times—about their mother using a different name while teaching—and they knew about her first marriage to Felix Vector—but they'd never seemed to have a problem with it. Neither did Cyrus—not really, he just liked to tease.

"I guess I now have a better _excuse_ to stick to Vector at Hogwarts though, don't I?" she said. "Since my children now hate me."

He rolled his eyes. "They don't hate you, love. We've lied to them and now they feel betrayed, but this shall pass. Children are...resilient."

"You seem so positive about this," she said. "How can that be?"

He smiled. "Because, I know my children."

She sighed. "And what are they going to think when they find out about the _others_?"

"_That'll_ certainly be entertaining," the man said—to which he received a sharp slap on the arm from his wife. "_What_? It _will_ be."

Septima glared at him.

"Look, with all you _females_ in the house, I think Septimus might actually _like_ the idea that he has two half-brothers. And I bet Sevaria wouldn't mind another sister...as long as she's _nothing_ like Seveena," he said with a laugh. "And Seveena. Well, _she's_ going to be..._furious_!" he finished at the same moment that his wife said the exact same word.

At the word _furious_, Septima collapsed into her husband's ugly green chair and dropped her head into her hands. "I am _such_ a fool, Cyrus. How could I have thought I'd get away with this? I mean, eleven years ago..._what_ in Merlin's name was I thinking?"

Cyrus chuckled. "We _weren't_ thinking, darling, that's the problem. But there's nothing we can do about it now except wait it out. We'll have to be tough. Can't let them get the upper hand. United front, and all that rubbish, _yes_?"

Septima glanced up at him, then nodded. "Of course."

"Right then," he said. "So get up and let's get on with things. Diagon Alley's not coming to us and we have three eleven-year-olds that start school next Monday. Not to mention our move to the castle."

Standing, Septima nodded again. She was teaching Arithmancy again and Cyrus had agreed to take over Muggle Studies—his years hiding in the Muggle world gave him loads of experience; he'd even attended a Muggle University during that time—so they were moving the entire family to Hogwarts for the year. Minerva was thrilled and had assigned them quarters large enough for their entire family. Of course, the triplets would stay in whichever House-dorm they were sorted into, but it would be nice to have them all in relatively the same place. Even Cydrella was happy about it. Having never lived without her siblings before, she'd been quite upset about the triplet's coming departure—until she learned they'd all be going. It helped that she knew there'd be a few other younger siblings living there as well—Andromeda Tonks lived there with her grandson Teddy, and Bill Weasley, who was in his second year of teaching Curse/Charm-Breaking to sixth and seventh years, had agreed to make residence there as well, and he was brining his wife and three children with him for the first time.

"We are packed, yes?" Cyrus asked.

Septima nodded again. "Yes. I sent everything over except the triplet's trunks and a small bag for each of us," she said. "Your mother's not at all happy about this though."

Cyrus shrugged. "She'll get used to it."

Septima snorted. "Is that your response to everything?"

"Pretty much. Besides, she doesn't do anything here that she can't do there, and she _knows_ we're not leaving her here alone."

"So, Monday's plan is...to take the kids to King's Cross Station, then Apparate to Hogsmeade, yes?

Cyrus nodded. "Yes. I'm not sitting on that bloody train filled with teens and preteens all day."

"How ever are you going to get through a year at Hogwarts if you can't sit a day on the train with them?" Septima teased.

Ignoring her, Cyrus took his wife's hand and pulled her to her feet. "But we're never going to get there if we don't get to Diagon Alley first, darling," he said as he manhandled her from their bedroom to join their four children—three of them disgruntled—downstairs.

**XxXxXxX**

After a stop at Gringotts, the Avery family made their way to the furthest end of Diagon Alley and into Ollivander's—where they received a surprised look from the proprietor. The man, the grandson of _the_ Mr. Ollivander, recovered quickly, though he still studied them carefully when he thought they weren't paying attention. The Avery children were oblivious to the man's perusal, but their parents were not.

"Wands for..._four_ today?" he'd asked once they were all inside and the tinkling bell over his door had stopped its high-pitched ringing.

"Three," Septima corrected, her eyes narrowed on the man as she indicated her three _eleven_-year-olds. It didn't take a genius to figure out that one or more of Severus Snape's _other_ children had already been in to purchase their wands, but as she'd yet to discuss any of the specific details of _that_ mess with her children, she didn't want the man bringing it up—and she could see that he was about to. "Just the three," she said stiffly, hoping that just the tone of her voice would tell the man not to ask any questions.

"Yes. Yes, of course, _Mrs_…?" the younger Mr. Ollivander prompted, obviously fishing for more information.

"_Avery_," Cyrus cut in as he thrust his hand out and over the counter at the shop-owner, his intention to divert the other man's scrutiny—and possible non-wand-related questions—from his wife and children. "Cyrus Sylvanus Avery."

The wand shop owner blinked at the name—a well-known Death Eater name—but recovered quickly and took hand of his potential customer. Everyone had seen the list of names of known Death Eaters that the _Daily Prophet_ had published years back and, while the surname Avery _was_ on it, _Cyrus_ Avery had not been one of them. "Good morning, sir," he said, if still a little shakily.

Cyrus smiled pleasantly—if that was possible after the morning they'd had at home, and then having to deal with a nosey shopkeeper. "Good morning to you as well," he said—then turned and slipped the hand to the small of Septima's back. "This is my wife and these are _our_ children."

At this Seveena snorted and mumbled something unintelligible, then glanced away when she received a silent reprimand from her _father_.

"This is our daughter, Sevaria," Cyrus said, his hand going to the girl's arm—he'd named her first, not only because she was standing the closest in proximity to him, but also because she was the most agreeable of their children.

Despite the hurt she was feeling, Sevaria clutched at her father's arm and gave the shop owner a nervous smile. "Sir," the girl said with a timid nod.

"And our son, Septimus," Cyrus went on.

Septimus politely nodded at the man behind the counter and said, "Hello, sir."

"And our daughter, Seveena."

Her arms folded over her chest, Seveena flashed a scowl at her _father_, then turned her black eyes on the other man. "Good morning, sir," she almost purred.

Rolling _her_ eyes, Septima gave her husband a look that said, _I'll give you _one guess_ which House _that one's _in_, then introduced their youngest child. "And this is Cydrella. She won't require a wand today, but these three will," she said with a gesture at the triplets.

Mr. Ollivander nodded, his pale eyes focusing on the three children he was being charged with finding wands for. For a moment he studied them. They looked strikingly similar to the twins he'd sold wands to just two days before; hair black as midnight, shining eyes the color of black onyx...and nearly identical physical characteristics—from shape and size of facial features to basic overall height and weight. It was really quite remarkable—and a bit scary.

The pallor of their skin though, was not exactly the same. Where the American twins' faces had shown considerable color, probably due to a summer on the west coast of the United States—Mr. Ollivander had heard that the sun was _always_ shining in the southwest part of that country—the Avery triplets, though healthy-looking, were quite pale. Like their mother, he supposed as he ran his eyes over the woman—and then her husband, who also had dark eyes, and hair that had once been dark before time had spattered it with gray.

So these three children, who looked very much like the Snape twins...it must be a coincidence, because...they _obviously_ had two different sets of parents. Confused, the man pulled out his tape measure and tried to focus. "Ahh, yes," he said to the children. "Getting one's first wand is quite the big day in a witch or wizard's life. _Very_ exciting. Who would like to be first?"

"Well, _I'm_ the oldest," Seveena said as she stepped forward and around her siblings to stand with her head tilted back and her nose in the air, "so _I'll_ go first."

Startled by the girl's pushiness, Mr. Ollivander stared for a moment, then blinked—then directed his tape measure to get to work while he jotted down information on a piece of parchment. After that it took several tries—a few broken shop items and an entire case of wand boxes toppled to the floor—to find the correct wand for Seveena, but eventually one of them chose her. "Vine-carved rosewood and unicorn tail hair. Nine and three quarter inches, inflexible."

"Ooo, pretty," Sevaria remarked as she peeked around her brother's arm at the wand that had chosen their sister.

Mr. Ollivander nodded. "The carvings insure peace and tranquility to the user."

From the other side of Septimus, the triplets' younger sister giggled. "I hope it works...for everyone's sake," she mumbled—which caused all but Seveena to laugh, because everyone knew that Seveena was anything but tranquil.

"Cydrella—" Seveena started to respond, her face flushed with anger, but was cut off.

"_Next_," Mr. Ollivander burst—obviously to squelch a potentially ugly scene.

Smiling, Septimus nodded for Sevaria to go next, and Sevaria, though she looked nearly identical to her sister, returned her brother's nod with a look of gratitude, then stepped forward with a tentativeness that their sister absolutely did not have and smiled shyly.

Quickly, Mr. Ollivander's tape measure did its thing while he scribbled furiously, then he disappeared, presumably to search for wands. He wasn't gone long before he reappeared, his arms laden with a myriad of boxes. Gently unloading his burden, the man opened the first box and nodded for the girl to pick up the wand.

Sevaria, a bit frightened after watching the craziness involved in finding one's wand, leaned over the counter and peered down at the one being offered her. It was pretty. Like her sister's, it was covered with a vine-like pattern—but it did absolutely nothing for her when she carefully lifted it from the velvet-lined wandbox and gave it a wave.

"Humph!" the man said as he pointed back at the box, indicating that he wanted her to put it back. When the girl had nestled it within, he closed the box with haste, then rapidly opened another. "Try..._this one_!"

And Sevaria would have—tried the wand presented to her—but the wandbox immediate slid down the length of the counter and away from her reaching fingers. Everyone's eyes widened when the girl turned and slowly reached out again, only to see the box literally jump from the end of the counter to the top of one of the wand-makers shelves.

"Umm. I don't think that one likes me," the girl said, a frown etched into her forehead.

"No matter," Mr. Ollivander said. "We've plenty more to try. An entire shop full. Let's _see_."

For a moment he stared at the closed boxes he'd placed on the counter—then he snapped his fingers and rushed down an aisle, causing the entire Avery family to lean to the side so that they could watch the man as he walked his fingers over several boxes. "Ah! _Here_! Maple, with a solid cherry handle, and centaur tail hair. Ten and one quarter inches," he said as he lifted the box's lid and offered the wand to the girl. "Very good for charm work and Divination...and _most_ spoken spells, I'm told. It's likely to keep you grounded and assist in level-headedness."

Smiling nervously, Sevaria picked it up and waited. But she didn't have long to wait because within moments of turning the wand over in her hand—her hand movement reminiscent of a standard _swish and flick_—a coolness spread over her entire body, including that of her scalp. This first caused her to shiver—and then the sensation seemed to push out, causing her long, black strands to ruffle as if a breeze had suddenly blown into the room.

"Oh. Excellent!" Mr. Ollivander exclaimed with obvious pleasure. "I think we've found your wand, Miss Avery."

Her eyes still on her wand—it seemed to be almost glowing now—Sevaria nodded, then whispered, "Yes."

Frowning, Seveena said, "What's _my_ wand good for?"

"Well, you'll have to work with it to really find out, Miss Avery," the man said to the first girl, "but rosewood always has medicinal qualities. I'd wager you'll soon know a healing charm or two."

Seveena glanced down at the wand she was still holding, then harrumphed.

"Now, young man," said Mr. Ollivander to Septimus. "Your turn. Let us start with what's already out."

Septimus nodded, then grinned and stepped forward. Expecting the process to take some time, they were all surprised when the first wand the boy touched erupted with a dazzling array of colors. "Mum, look! It looks like the flag," he said excitedly. "Doesn't it, Dad?"

"Indeed," Cyrus agreed.

Smiling, Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Mahoghany and dragon heartstring. Twelve inches, pliable. Excellent for Transfiguration," he informed them as he busied himself with straightening up his counter. "Lovely wands, all three."

**XxXxX**

Upon leaving Ollivanders, Septima confiscated her children's boxed wands—because she didn't want any nonsense—then, as she slipped them into her bag, she glanced up at her husband. "Shall we stop at Fortescue's for some ice cream?" she asked. They'd previously agreed to do this, in hopes of distracting the triplets—and placating them—but she wasn't sure how her husband felt at the moment; their eldest daughter's snarky attitude stung quite a bit.

Taking his wife's hand, Cyrus nodded. "Sounds divine, love," he said, ignoring their angry daughter as she crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. He knew very well that she loved ice cream, but was just being difficult—so he opted to just pretend he didn't see her near-silent protest. "Come children."

Everyone smiled happily, pleased to be offered a treat—all except Seveena, of course, who just wanted to get on with the day and go home. Pulling up the rear, Seveena flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and followed slowly. Then, entering the ice cream parlor last, she flopped into a chair and waited.

The ice cream parlor, which used to be owned and run by Florean Fortescue—before he'd been dragged off and killed by Death Eaters sometime in late June or early July of 1996—was currently owned by the man's widow, Miriam. Miriam Fortescue, who'd once been quite the perky little thing back in the day, was now not so much. She ran the business well—efficiently, anyway—but her spark was gone and everyone knew it. Everyone wondered when she'd pass the shop on to one of her five children—or sell it, if none of them wanted it—because she was basically finished.

After ordering their treat, five of the six Averys chatted pleasantly—and Seveena stared out the window while she ate in silence, only partly listening to her family.

"What'll _I_ do while you're all in class?" Cydrella asked, her mouth full of Florescent Drooble Gumball ice cream, after several minutes of quiet eating.

Septima frowned and opened her mouth to scold, but her husband beat her to it.

"_Manners_, Cyd," the man said. "Or you'll have detention before we even get there.

The girl's eyes widened as she struggled to swallow a mouthful of ice cream—minus the Droobles, which she was saving in her cup. "How can I get detention when I won't have any teachers?"

Septima arched a brow. "You'll be living with two teachers _and_ your grandmother, dear," she reminded her daughter. "And, you will be staying with your grandmother while your father and I are teaching. But that doesn't mean you won't be given detention if you give us reason."

For just a second Cydrella frowned—and then her eyes suddenly lit up again. "But I get to spend time with the children under eleven, _yes_?" she said excitedly.

Septima nodded. "This is true. There are five of you...that I know of."

Cydrella grinned. The fact that Hogwarts was now opening its doors to the families of its teachers thrilled her to no end, because she'd not have to wait two more years to attend like most everyone else. Of course, she wasn't _really_ attending, but that was a mere technicality.

"But, though you won't have to _officially_ attend classes, you _will_ be given lessons," Cyrus said quickly.

Cydrella's smile disappeared as her jaw dropped open. "But...that's not fair," she whined. "No one else starts until they're eleven."

Septima shrugged. "Well, you five are lucky, you get to start early. You'll be ahead of everyone when your eleventh year arrives. Besides, you'd have had tutors at home as well."

Taking a deep breath, Cydrella glanced at her siblings. Septimus and Sevaria were talking quietly amongst themselves—obviously not wanting to be drawn into the conversation—and Seveena was still staring morosely out the window.

"But...I don't have a wand," she complained.

"A wand won't be necessary," her father said. "What you'll learn is more theory than anything else."

Cydrella wrinkled her nose. "How _boring_."

"I'm sorry, dear," Septima said as she reached out and gave her daughter's hand a light pat. "That's just the way it is."

"You'll like Hogwarts though," Cyrus said. "Fascinating place."

"If you say so," the youngest Avery said without feeling an ounce of joy.

**XxXxX**

"All right. We'll split up now. You three," Septima said, indicating her eldest and youngest daughter and her only son, "will go with your father to Flourish & Blott's while Sevaria and I go to Madam Malkin's."

Cydrella pouted at this. Since she wasn't starting at Hogwarts, she had no interesting in the bookstore—and she'd been hoping her mother would, at the very least, let her pick out some new robes. "_Mummy_," she whined, "can't I please come with you?"

Her eyes going to her husband, Septima sighed. "What do you think, Cyrus?"

The man shrugged. "She does need a few things."

Septima nodded. "Well...if you promise to make whatever we purchase last—"

"Oh! I will, I will!" the girl squealed as she jumped up and down. "I _promise_."

At this Seveena rolled her dark eyes, then turned—her black hair whipping around—and started away from her family.

Watching her go, the family just stood for a moment—Cyrus chuckling before he kissed his wife and glanced at Septimus. "Ready son?"

Shrugging, Septimus gave a nod, then moved to his father's side.

But when they reached Flourish & Blott's, Cyrus turned toward his son and said, "Do you think you and your sister would be able to purchase your books without me?"

Frowning, Septimus stared up at the man. "Of course...Dad. But why?"

Cyrus smiled, though the pause before his title hurt. "Today's been somewhat _stressful_ for your mother. For all of us, I suppose. But...I wanted to get her something...to possibly ease the stress."

Septimus smiled, then nodded—as confused as he was, he didn't like the idea of his mother being upset and if his father wanted to rectify that, then he was all for it.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Cyrus reached into a fold of his robe and pulled out his money purse. "This should be enough for three sets of first-year books...and a bit extra," he said with a sad smile. "And...keep an eye on your sister, would you?"

Nodding, Septimus pocketed the Galleons, then entered Flourish & Blott's—only to find Seveena glaring at him.

"Taking bribes from our _father_?" she sneered.

Septimus rolled his eyes. "Of course not. He wanted to go get something for Mum and asked that we pick up our books."

Seveena frowned, then ran her hand over the book she'd been flipping through while waiting inside alone. Then, tapping her index finger on the cover, she said, "There are some fascinating spells in this one. One that can even be used to silence a liar forever."

"And who, dear sister, is the liar you want to silence?" Septimus asked, though he already knew to whom his sister was referring.

"Mother, of course."

"Mum's not a liar."

"She's not?" Seveena asked, her brow raised with disbelief, her black eyes flat and cold in her anger.

Though it was slight, Septimus shook his head.

"You don't think it's a lie to tell us one man is our father when he is not?"

Frowning, Septimus said, "They didn't actually _tell us_ that he's our father, Veen—"

"No. It's worse!" she hissed, cutting him off. "They just let us _believe_ that he was. For _years_! _Eleven_ years!"

"He's a good man, Veena," Septimus argued. "Hasn't he always been good to us?"

Seveena glanced away, not answering his question.

"I'm not saying I'm happy they didn't tell us, but..."

Glaring at him, Seveena harrumphed.

"Come on, Veena, dad loves—"

"Cyrus _isn't_ our father!" his sister growled through clenched teeth.

Septimus sighed. "Well...he's _my_ father. I don't care that he's really not. That doesn't matter. A father isn't always the man who—"

"There's more, you know," she cut him off again. "I know that there's more to this or they wouldn't have bothered to fess up now."

The boy frowned again. "What do you mean?"

"Mum said our father's name was Severus Snape, right?"

Septimus nodded.

"She even gave you his name for your middle name."

"Yeah. So."

"And both mine and Sevaria's name sounds like _his_."

Septimus shifted his weight. "What's your point?"

"Well, look here," his sister said as she reached for another book and held it up. "There's a book about him...our _father_. We could get it and learn whatever it is that _they_ didn't tell us."

Septimus frowned again. "I don't know, Veena. What if...what if he was a bad man and that's why mum didn't want us to know about him?"

"He wasn't...look," she said as she flipped the book open to the table of contents. "Look, he died a hero."

"Yeah, and he was in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," he said, pointing at a chapter titled, _A Man and his Dark Mark_. "Evil."

Now it was Seveena's turn to frown. "An _evil_ hero, Sep? That doesn't seem likely."

Shrugging, Septimus took the book from his sister and closed it, then set it down. "Come on. Let's get our books and go. Dad won't be long and I don't wanna make him wait.

Huffing angrily, Seveena turned and stomped over to where the first-year books were piled and picked up a stack for herself without bothering to help carry their sister's books—and without seeing that her brother grabbed the Severus Snape biography before getting the rest of their purchases and joining her at the counter.

**XxXxX**

A quick stop at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions had all four Avery children outfitted for the year. After that they made a few stops—to pick up the remainder of needed items—finished with lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, and then went home. It was an exhausting day for all involved—and not truly over, since Septima still had to decide whether she should tell the triplets about their other siblings...or just let them find out on their own. Either way, it would be difficult.

* * *

**Question...**does anyone have an opinion on whether or not Septima should tell the triplets about their other siblings? I mean...YES, she probably..._definitely_ SHOULD, but...she's already made so many mistakes, as far as not disclosing details, that...does it matter at this point? If you think she should, I want reasons...and if you think not, well, I want reasons for that too. Not saying I'll listen to your opinions, but I'm curious. Thanks!

**ETA** (5/6/2011)**:** Oops! Just realized I've made a mistake! Sirius Blacks parents (Orion Black and Wallburga Black) weren't _first_ cousins...they were _second_ cousins...just like Septima and her husband, Cyrus. I'm not going to fix it though, but I wanted _you_ to know that _I_ know that I made an error. **Damn it!** It's not a typo, just a research error...or rather, poor reading of the Black family tree. *sigh* Thanks for your understanding! =/


	17. Diagon Alley Part III

**Author's Note**

Hey! **Chapter seventeen** here! And filled with non-HP characters...sorry people! I really think I'm better with making up my own characters, so...maybe fan fiction's not my true calling, but...whatever! =)

Please inform me of typos (since I hate those and all)! =/

* * *

**Word Count:** 4,996

* * *

**Diagon Alley** (Part III)

**Friday****, 29 August, 2008**

Scanning the letter she'd received by owl two days before, Raveena frowned—yet again—wondering why her aunt and uncle had decided, _after all these years_, to get involved with her and her son, Evanius. She knew the answer to her ponderings, of course, but wasn't at all happy about it. Her son's Hogwarts' letter had arrived—thank Merlin!—back in November the previous year, shortly after his eleventh birthday, and they just wanted to horn in now that they knew he wasn't a Squib like his mother. This infuriated Raveena, since any time she'd ever had contact with any of them—mostly the Salvatore side of the family; her own parents, her brothers, and their wives and children—they'd scorned both her _and_ her son. Some of them had even been quite cruel. Her brothers had ridiculed her obsession over her son's father—a man whom, though she'd never actually revealed to them his identity, became quite obvious as time went on and the boy grew—saying that, because she was a Squib, she wasn't woman enough to keep _any_ man—let alone Severus Snape—and should _never_ have considered herself worthy; their wives turned up their noses, as if Raveena were some unpleasant odor or a dirty house-elf; their children scoffed at Evanius' very existence, taunting the boy mercilessly; and her parents did _nothing_ to put an end to it. For the most part, her father ignored both her and her son—his youngest grandson—which was better than the treatment she usually received from her mother, who'd actually once said that she'd made her bed and must now lie in it. It was because of all this that Raveena had done her darnedest to keep the news of Evanius' imminent departure to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from them. Why ever would she want them around after they'd rejected her so completely?

But the aunt and uncle who'd owled were _not_ Salvatores. Instead, they were Malfoys—which in some ways was worse, given how low the Malfoy name had fallen during the war. _This_ uncle and aunt were Raveena's mother's younger brother, Axarus—and his grown son, Maximus, as well—and Axarus' never-been-married twin sister, Adora. They'd never been anything but kind to Raveena and her boy—though they'd been decidedly absent over the years.

Their _kindness_, however, did not impress Raveena. Because all three had spent _most_ of the past twenty years out of the country—in Germany, in fact—Raveena was furious with the lot of them. It was true that, over the years, she'd received regular owls and significant amounts of money from them—pity money, she called it—but...why hadn't they been around to stick up for her and her son when others in the family had obviously just wanted to hide her and her transgression from the world?

For her son though, she was thrilled—he wasn't a Squib like she and would be able to join the ranks of their large family where she had not been able. He'd be able to go off to school and learn what he'd been born to—not that he wanted to. In fact, Evanius was quite bitter himself. For eleven years her son had watched the world around him and saw it as completely unjust. As the son of a Squib, he did not seem to fit in to the world his mother had been born to—but neither was he a Muggle. His extended family—grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins—while they constantly harassed him and his mother about their status—or lack thereof—were adamant that they not venture out into the non-wizarding world. Where they thought he and his mother would go was anyone's guess, but, because of this, he and his mother had _no one_ else.

And it was because of this...this _no one else_...that caused Raveena to accept the fact that her aunt and uncle—and cousin—would be arriving shortly.

Crumpling the letter, the blonde woman held it over the cooker in her kitchen and watched it burn—dropping it into the sink when the flames reached her fingers, then staring down at it.

"_Mummy_?"

Turning, Raveena saw her son standing in the doorway and tried to smile at him.

"You all right?" he asked, a black brow arched worriedly.

Glancing into the sink and seeing the charred remains of the letter, Raveena quickly reached for and turned on the faucet, then looked back at her son. "Yes."

"They're coming today, aren't they?" Evanius asked, his tone acidic.

Raveena nodded.

"Why?"

Frowning, the woman grabbed a hand towel and dried her hands, then went to her son. "They're _insisting_ on accompanying us today," she said with a roll of her gray eyes.

"But...why?" he asked again.

"I don't know," she whispered. And she didn't know. Though she was a Squib, she'd been to Diagon Alley several times over the years and hadn't needed anyone from the family to go with her, but...the letter made it clear that she and her son were not going alone on this day. "Maybe they think we can't get there on our own."

"I _hate_ them!" her son snarled through clenched teeth, his small hands fisted in his fury. "I hate _them all_!"

Blinking, Raveena continued to frown. She knew that, over the years, she'd bad-mouthed the family, and deservingly so—in her opinion—but despite everything, she didn't really _hate_ them. She disliked them immensely, because of the rejection and cruelty, but...they were _still_ the only family she and her son had.

The one she _truly_ hated was the man who was her son's father, because it was his rejection that was the cause of all this. She'd practically worshipped the man—she'd lain with him and given him a son, and he'd walked away. He'd turned his back on them, which, to her mind, had caused her own family to turn on her. It wasn't true, of course—it wasn't Severus Snape's fault that her family loathed her, it was her non-magical status. But Raveena couldn't seem to see that.

"Don't say that," she said quietly. "They're not all bad." Then angrily, she went on. "This is all _that man's_ doing!"

Evanius nodded; he also hated the man who'd created him. Over the years he'd heard enough disparaging remarks about the man—mostly from his mother, but from others as well—to put up a near-impenetrable barrier around his heart so that he felt nothing but loathing for his dead father. Or so he told himself. But if he was honest with himself, he'd be forced to admit that he was curious.

"Why do we have to wait _for them_?" he asked.

"Because they will find us if we go on our own," Raveena answered with an exhausted sigh. "And then there'd be questions...questions I'd rather not be bothered with." There were always questions, if not from others, then from her son—but he seemed satisfied by her response and didn't push further. With another sigh, Raveena glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall and said, "They'll be here any second. Are you ready?"

Evanius nodded. "Yes, Mummy."

The tiny lines on her forehead smoothing, Raveena tried to relax. Over the years, Raveena had matured. In most ways she'd done right by her son—better than one might have expected, given her upbringing—but she still failed in some areas. She'd managed to clean up their surroundings and keep them both fed and in decent attire, but she still had her opinions and prejudices—just like anyone else.

But provide, she had. She'd taken Mrs. Avery's advice about selling Severus' house and using the monies to refurbish her own into something pleasant and livable—something decent enough in which to raise a child. The selling of Severus' house had taken some time though—because no one seemed to want to move onto Spinner's End—but in time she'd been successful. And once sold, Raveena had taken most of his belongings, including a _vast_ library of books—only half of them spell books—into her home, where she proceeded to read each and every one of them. It took _years_, but what else did she have to do while raising her son. She supposed she could have gone out and gotten a Muggle job—but why do that when it seemed she now had plenty of money to stay home with her child. Selling Severus' home had given her some of that money, but that was not all she had. Her parents, though they seemed to loathe her, sent her a monthly stipend. She called this stay-away money, and stay away she did—though she did use her parents' money for money expenses. But there was also the pity money she regularly received from her aunt and uncle. This money, however, she never touched. Instead, she put it in the account at Gringotts that she'd opened for Evanius. That day had been interesting—the day she'd opened Evanius' account—because she'd discovered that there were already several accounts with her son's name on it.

"Mummy?"

Blinking, Raveena focused on her son.

"You all right?" he asked again.

Nodding, Raveena reached out to run a hand over her son's cheek. "Just thinking."

Evanius watched his mother carefully. She often said she was _just thinking_ and it always worried him. She always looked sad and lonely, even when they were having fun together—and now that he would be going off to school, he worried about her being truly alone.

"_Mummy_?"

"What is it, Ev?"

"I don't have to go," he said. He wanted to go—if for no other reason, but to see what else was out there—but he hated the thought of leaving her by herself.

Smiling, Raveena tried to look cheerful. "Of course you do. This will be—"

And then she was startled by a deafening _CRACK_ in her living room—which caused her son to roll his black eyes.

"Raveena, dear," came her elderly aunt's voice from the other room, "we're here."

Glancing at her son, Raveena whispered, "As if we couldn't _hear_ them Apparate in."

Their conversation forgotten, Evanius giggled.

"Don't think we didn't hear that, Cousin," came a deep voice.

Rolling her gray eyes, Raveena sighed, then gestured for her son to follow her. Stepping into her main living space, Raveena eyed them. Her aunt and uncle looked..._older_...which they were, since she'd not seen them in a few years, but good too—and her cousin, Maximus, who was her age, didn't seem to look any different than he had the last time she'd seen him. Unlike most of the family, Maximus wasn't blonde and pale. Like his Italian mother—who'd died giving birth to him—he was dark-haired and eyed and had wonderfully naturally tanned skin.

Quickly, Raveena went to her aunt—but stopped in front of her, not quite sure how to greet her after all these years.

"What is wrong with you, child?" her aunt asked as she reached out and drew Raveena into her arms. "Don't you _dare_ confuse me with my sister!"

Startled, Raveena hugged back—but was scolded when she attempted to pull back.

"The initiator of the affection is the one who should end it, my dear."

Blushing, Raveena nodded. "I'm sorry, Aunt Adora."

Waving a hand dismissively, the older woman smiled. "You look good, dear. Healthy."

Pursing her lips, Raveena tried to smile, but she hated being on display. "Th-thank you," she sputtered, then glanced at her uncle. "Hello, Uncle."

Her uncle's demeanor was less touchy-feely than his twin sister's, but he did smile warmly before taking her hand and kissing it. "It is so nice to see you again, Raveena. It has been...a while."

Raveena nodded. "Yes, Uncle, it has," she agreed, hoping she managed to keep the bitterness out of her tone—and knowing she failed when the white-haired man cocked his head and frowned.

"And what about me, Cousin?" Maximus said with a grin. "Where is _my_ hug?"

Smiling, Raveena allowed herself to be pulled toward the man. Smashing her into his broad chest, he squeezed her tight—too tight, as far as she was concerned—but only briefly.

"Now, let's see this boy of yours," her cousin went on. "You've sure grown!"

Evanius narrowed his black eyes at his mother's cousin. "Of course I have!" he snapped. "You've not seen me in five years."

"_Evanius_!" Raveena hissed, her face flushed with embarrassment.

But Maximus laughed. "That's quite all right, Cousin. The boy is just pointing out the truth. It's been far too long between visits."

Nervously, Raveena glanced at her aunt and uncle—and was surprised to see them nodding.

"Very much like his snarky father in more ways than appearance, isn't he?" Uncle Axarus said, his pale eyes going to his niece.

"_I am not_!" Evanius objected, his arms crossing defiantly over his chest.

Axarus' brow shot up and his eyes went to Raveena—who pointedly looked away—then the man looked back at the boy. "There is nothing wrong with sharing traits with Severus Snape, young man. Despite what you may have been told, I'll have you know that he was a very brave man...braver than most. Yes, he made mistakes...just like everyone else...but he died a hero."

For a moment, Evanius boldly glared up at the white-haired man—but soon it became a confused frown.

"Now!" the older man said. "Let's get this day moving, shall we?"

"Yes," his twin agreed. "And let's take our time..._stretch out_ the day as long as possible."

At this Maximus chuckled. "Avoiding something, are we, Auntie?"

"Oh. _Merlin, yes_!" Adora drawled with a roll of her pale gray eyes. "The longer we make this shopping expedition, the less time we have to spend over at your Aunt Amulara's," she said to her handsome nephew. Then quickly, she turned and patted Raveena's arm. "No offense, dear, but if I have to sit there and listen to your father and brothers go on about _pure-blood_ politics, your mother and sisters-in-law prattle on about their silly _ladies'_ functions, and your cousins bicker about utter _nonsense_, for more than a couple hours, I think I'll have to perform an Unforgivable on myself," she complained—then frowned. "Mind you, I mean no offense," she repeated.

Raveena grinned. "Oh. None taken, Aunt Adora."

"Pfft! What's with this _Aunt Adora_ rubbish?" the old woman carped. "I know I've been neglectful, but—"

"I'm sorry, Auntie," quickly Raveena corrected herself.

"That's quite all right, dear, but...please do stop apologizing. You might have been born a Salvatore, but you've got Malfoy blood in you too. And Malfoys do not express regret over something that can so easily be rectified."

"Yes. Of course, Auntie."

"Are we ready know, Sister?" Axarus asked when he could finally get a word in.

"Hmm. Quite."

"All right then," the old man said, then smiled at his niece. "Has the boy Apparated Side-Along before?"

Raveena shook her head.

"Hmm. Well then. Maximus, would you do the honors?"

"Of course, Father," Maximus said, then looked at the boy and held out an arm. "Brace yourself, Evanius. Apparation can be...disconcerting the first few times."

Looking up at his mother, fear in his obsidian eyes, Evanius slowly reached out and grabbed Maximus' arm.

"Ready?"

"I _think_ so."

Chuckling, Maximus addressed the others. "See you there!" Then, with a crack, they were gone.

**XxXxX**

Raveena arrived in Diagon Alley moments later, one hand clutching her aunt's hand, the other in her uncle's—she did _not_ like Side-Along Apparating at all, but what choice did she have.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she said, quickly releasing the hands she clung to and rushing to a large potted plant. After retching, she fumbled for the bag she carried, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry," she said, obviously expecting words of derision.

"What did I tell you about apologies, young lady?" her aunt said as she magicked a tissue into Raveena's hand and gently rubbed the small of her back. "I'll hear no more of them!"

"But...if I wasn't a Squ—"

"I don't want to hear that either, dear," the woman scolded. "Plenty of witches and wizards can't abide by Apparation. Your magical status has nothing to do with it."

Raveena frowned as she continued to blot her quivering lips, then chanced a look at the others—they were watching her, but politely.

"It's true, Cousin," Maximus said. "Took your brother, Rufus, _years_ to get over his aversion to Apparating."

"Threw up every time, for _Merlin knows_ how long," Axarus added.

"Of course, Splinching himself those few times might have contributed to the problem," Adora said with an almost evil grin.

"Not that your delightful brother would _ever_ tell anyone about any of that," said Maximus, snickering his amusement. "I wouldn't bring it up though."

Her eyes wide, Raveena shook her head. "I would _never_. Rufus would likely hex me silly."

Adora got serious here. "He'd better not!" she snapped—then frowned. "Growing up under that roof must have been..._excruciating_."

Raveena shrugged. "It wasn't fun," she admitted.

Still frowning, the older woman snaked an arm around her niece and squeezed her. "Had I truly known, I'd have tried to do something."

Raveena nodded, but didn't say anything. She didn't know what _to_ say.

"Are we going to get this boy the things he needs or stand _here_ all day?" Axarus finally asked.

**XxXxX**

"I don't see why he can't have a broom," Maximus complained loudly—for at least the third time. They'd made their stop at Flourish & Blott's to get Evanius' books—which Axarus had shrunk and placed in his pocket—had finished up at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions—where Adora had practically bought the place out—and were now heading down the street to Ollivander's to get a wand.

"Students are not permitting brooms during their first year," his father reminded him.

"Pfft! That's ridiculous!" Maximus very nearly growled. "I had one _long_ before entering Durmstrang. How's one supposed to play Quidditch without one?"

"First years rarely make their House teams, Son," Axarus reminded his grown son.

Ignoring his father, Maximus looked at the boy. "If you make your House team, send me an owl immediately and you'll have the fastest broom available," he promised.

Evanius grinned up at him and nodded—then frown, because he hoped he wouldn't disappoint them. Sure seemed like his mother's cousin was expecting a lot out of a kid born to a Squib.

"Stop it, Max!" Adora scolded when she saw the child's face. "The boy's not ever sat a broom before. Give him a chance to get acclimated. He'll take his flying classes, like everyone else, and we'll see if he has an aptitude. If he does, great! And if he doesn't, that's fine too. I assure you that there are plenty of other areas to find interest."

"Of course, Auntie, but—"

"No buts!" Adora said as she turned toward a shop and waved the door open wandlessly. "In, in...let's get this done!"

**XxXxX**

"Be right with you," came a voice from somewhere in the back.

Evanius looked up at his mother—who smiled down at him encouragingly—then let his dark eyes wander around the shop. It was a tiny place, narrow and shabby with a dusty window, and empty except for small counter and a single, spindly chair—a chair that sat an old man, who was now staring at them.

"Good afternoon," the man said in a soft voice as he rose, his old bones creaking, and approached. Stopping in front of them, the man narrowed his pale eyes—eyes that shined like moons through the gloom of the shop—and leaned in close to Evanius.

"Umm. Hello, Sir," Evanius said awkwardly, uncomfortable with the creepy old man's nearness—he wasn't used to people doing that.

"Hmm. _Another_ one," the man said. "Two on Monday, three on Wednesday...and one today."

Confused by the man's strange words, Evanius glanced at his mother again, but she only shrugged, just as confused as he.

"You have your father's eyes, young man," the old man said after a moment.

"M-my f-father?" Evanius sputtered, his black eyes wide with surprise. "You k-knew my father?"

"And his hair as well, I believe," the man went on, ignoring Evanius' question. Then he reached out and grabbed Evanius' hand and squeezed it firmly—more firmly than the boy thought someone so aged was capable. "Good hands. If I had to guess, I'd say you'll be quite proficient at Potions...just like your father was. He was a master, you know."

Evanius, though frightened by the crazy old man's words, was intrigued as well. _Did he _really_ look_ that much _like the man who'd created him_? he wondered. Having never seen an image of his father, he didn't know—but he vowed to find one as soon as possible. Glancing at his mother again—she didn't look too happy—Evanius sighed.

"There you are!" came another voice—an exasperated one. "Mother's been looking for you, Grandfather. She has your tea ready."

All eyes turned to look at the newcomer; he was a much younger version of the crazy old man, but obviously related.

With a sigh, the old man said, "Does horrid things to the hair, I'm told...mixing potions, I mean...but you'll be good." Then he turned and shuffled toward the younger man. "Try Willow."

After the old man was gone, the younger one faced his customers. "So sorry 'bout that," he said. "My grandfather has seen better days." Then he eyed Evanius—who looked _nothing_ like the three blonde-haired people with him, and equally unlike the darker man with them—and frowned. "I am...umm...Mr. Ollivander...the proprieter. Off to Hogwart's come Monday, are you?"

Evanius nodded.

"Well then, you'll be needing a wand then, won't you?"

Evanius smiled shyly and nodded again. "Yes, Sir."

Having been silent thus far, Adora placed one hand on Evanius' shoulder and held out the other. "Adora Malfoy, Mr. Ollivander."

Surprised by the surname—it had been _years_ since the Malfoys had been seen in public—Mr. Ollivander took the older woman's hand and gently shook it, then said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Madam."

Nodding, Adora pulled her hand back and gestured at the others. "And this is my brother, Axarus, and his son, Maximus, my niece, Raveena, and _her_ son, Evanius Salvatore. Obviously we're here today to purchase Evanius' wand."

Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course," he said quickly. "Well, let's get started. Put out your wand arm, so my tape measure can get to work, and I'll just go pull out a few boxes."

Turning, the man sped away—his heart beating a mile a minute and his mind reeling. _What were the chances of six, _nearly identical_, children entering his shop in a matter of just five days_? he thought as he manically pulled wand-boxes from his shelves. On Monday he'd helped the Snape twins—whose mother was introduced as Holly, and hadn't objected when he'd called her Mrs. Snape—then two days later, in traipsed the Avery triplets. Though the Avery triplets—along with their "parents"—didn't go by the name Snape, it was now obvious to Mr. Ollivander—given what he was seeing today—that those three children were also—_most definitely_—products of Severus Snape. He'd bet his life on it!

"All right. Here we are!" he said as he gently piled the wand boxes on the counter, glanced down and studied the stats his Quick Quill had jotted down for him, then picked up one of the boxes, pulled off its lid, and set it in front of the boy. "Let's start with this! Willow and dragon heartstring. Seven inches. Nice and swishy. Just take it and give it a wave."

Smiling nervously, Evanius reached out and took the wand and, feeling silly, waved it a bit—but Mr. Ollivander quickly snatched it out of his hand and put it away.

"Nope! Too small. How about this!" the man said. "Also willow, but with a phoenix feather. Nine inches. Swishy as well, but somewhat whippy."

Evanius tried—but he hardly raised the wand when it too was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no," the proprietor said as he dropped the wand in it's box, closed it, and pulled out another. "Willow and unicorn hair. Eight and half inches. Swishy. Willow is always swishy. Go on now, try it out," he said when Evanius didn't immediately take the proffered wand.

Again Evanius tried—and tried and tried and tried—but none of the wands would do anything for him. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for, but the stack of tried wands in their boxes was piling up and Evanius was beginning to think he'd have to leave without getting a wand—and that worried him since his mother had no magic at all.

And then something _did_ happen. The next wand that was handed him jumped out of his hand and back into its box—making him think his previous thoughts might actually be true. Positive he wasn't destined to be a wizard after all, he was completely crestfallen.

But Mr. Ollivander seemed pleased and encouraged by the development. "Oh! Finally! We're getting closer. You're a tricky one, son. But not to worry...sooner or later we find a wand for everyone." Frowning, Mr. Ollivander pushed the wand boxes they'd already opened out of the way and pulled toward him the few they had not. "Hmm. Grandfather insisted on willow, but I'm not so sure. Still, he was an expert in his time, so... Willow and centaur tail hair. Eleven and three quarter inches. Swishy as all get out."

Not expecting anything, Evanius took the wand—and was surprised by the warmth that instantly made its way from his fingertips, up his arm, and into his body. Smiling, he raised it over his head and brought it swishing downward through the dusty air of the shop—green and gold sparks shooting from the end.

"Look, mummy," he said happily. "I _am_ a wizard."

Raveena grinned. "Of course you are, Evanius," she said proudly.

**XxXxX**

Raveena watched as her son went off with the others. She'd made an excuse about needing to stop at Gringotts and promised to meet them at the Leaky Cauldron when she was finished. Though she didn't truly _need_ to go to the bank, she desperately wanted to check something out. When they were finally out of sight, she turned and hurried away.

Navigating back down the busy main street of Diagon Alley, she stopped at the snowy white building that towered over all the little shops and eyed the goblin who stood outside next to the burnished bronze doors. He wore a uniform of scarlet and gold, and bowed as she came up the steps and went inside.

Once inside, Raveena faced a second set of doors, silver this time, opened them and walked quickly past two more bowing goblins, and into a vast marble hall with a hundred—or more—goblins sitting on high stools behind a long counter scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, and examining precious stones through eyeglasses.

"Good afternoon, Sir," Raveena said once she was standing in front of one of the goblins. "Is there someone I could speak with about the accounts I have here?"

His eyes narrowing, the goblin stopped writing, wrinkled his nose, and stared at her. "You may speak with me."

Nodding, Raveena reached into her pocket and pulled out a key and pushed it across the counter. "There are several accounts associated with this key, but...I've only opened one of them. Could you tell me who has opened the others?"

Picking up the key, the goblin looked at it closely, then shook his head. "I _could_, but I will not."

"But the account is mine and my son's," she said with a huff of frustration.

"That is true, but one of your solicitors has requested that his or her contributions be anonymous.

Biting her lip, Raveena frowned. _Of course_! "One of them?" she queried, as she knew all the others who'd been helping her.

The goblin nodded.

"Is there _any way_ I can get in touch with...that _one_ solicitor?

The goblin looked down at the ledger he'd been making notes on, then reached for a piece of parchment—which he pushed, with obvious annoyance, across the counter at the woman. "You could have us send him or her a note."

Raveena stared at the blank parchment, then grabbed it and scribbled out a note.

Not sure who you are or why you've been depositing

money into my son's account at Gringotts—or what your

connection to us may be—but I must say that

the money has been extremely helpful over the years and

is very much appreciated. I would sure like to meet

you, if that is possible—to express my gratitude in

person. Perhaps we could have lunch? If this is acceptable

to you, please owl me at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Raveena Sidonia Salvatore

Rereading her letter—twice—Raveena bit her lip, then slid the parchment back across the counter toward the goblin. Nodding when he indicated that he would need to read it, she waited the few seconds that took, then watched him fold it up and put it in a Gringotts' envelope, then stamp it—magically—and place it on what was obviously the outgoing post pile.

"That will go out today?" she asked after several seconds of silence.

Having gone back to his ledger, the goblin looked up at her again. "Of course. And will there be anything else, Miss Salvatore?" he asked.

"Umm. No. I think that is all. Good day, Sir."

* * *

**Questions/comments** - I'd be happy to address them!

**Characters:**

Raveena Salvatore (43) - woman who got herself knocked up by Severus Snape; Squib (my goodness...I've made her WAY too immature for a 43 year old)

Evanius Salvatore (11) - Raveena and Severus' son

Adora Malfoy (74) - Raveena's aunt (her mother's younger sister/mother name is Amulara Salvatore); Axarus' twin sister

Axarus Malfoy (74) - Raveena's uncle (her mother's younger brother); Adora's twin brother

Maximus Malfoy (43) - Axarus' son (mother died in childbirth); Raveena's cousin; not married/no children


End file.
